Flowers for Ravens
by AriLily
Summary: Saying Iris had a bad childhood is a bit of an understatement. She's a bit more jaded and has some issues with boys. When she finally decides to run away, a series of events unfolds that brings new perspective on the wizarding world. Given the chance to heal, join her as she braves Hogwarts with her friends, her brother and her wit. (Contains ControlDumbles AU/OCs, some bashing)
1. Chapter 1

The one day that Iris Potter was treated most like a human was her birthday. Not that there was anything wrong with being ignored, but at the very least life had become more bearable when the hag called Petunia finally took her side in an argument against her walrus of an uncle Vernon. She supposed it helped that the apple of his eye, her cousin and their daughter Abigail, was more than happy to treat her like a person.

Sure she still had more chores than her whale of a cousin Dudley who didn't do any of them anyway. Her favorite, not to mention her only other choice Abigail had several of her own to do. The gardening was mostly left to Petunia so Iris was often tasked to do the cleaning and the cooking with Abigail assisting in the capacity a six-year old could.

No such luck today, Iris mused, as the Dursley family plus one Potter went to one of the lower end restaurants. She supposed it would be too much to ask for a relatively normal day. Then again, she supposed a day without Vernon yelling at her or Dudley hitting her was in its own way better than usual.

Abigail hummed happily, it wasn't difficult to please her, with a sweet tooth as large as Dudley's sadistic streak she was the easiest to bribe among the Dursleys. Picking at a platter of chicken, she glanced up to where Dudley was busy stuffing his face with chips, wincing at the disgusting sight.

Often, she wondered at what life would have been like had her parents still been alive. She wondered if she'd have parties like some of her other friends did, even if they did throw her a bit of a surprise party a few days ago when the Dursleys were busy with an event or other. She wondered if her mother would cook food at home or if her father would chase away boys that had taken a fancy to her.

Somehow, she knew that her uncle and aunt were lying. Her strange dreams never added up. Absently, she lifted a lock of her red hair and ran a finger down the length of the jagged bolt-shaped scar on her forehead. Iris was by no means a stupid child. She researched into cars and car crashes after getting over the fact that her parents were dead. It was cold, she knew that, but she also knew that her councilors were right, and that she had to move on.

She remembered that night. However, she remembered that man, dressed all in black with a white face and eyes red as blood. She shivered, and brought herself back to reality as Abigail was poking her as a small cake was placed in front of her. Not that she'd be able to touch it, Dudley would be getting the whole cake when they got home so she did what she always did and politely declined, raising her voice loud enough for those nearby to hear that she was full.

Dudley gave a smug smile, hidden to all as Abigail's mouth watered at the sight of all that sugar. Instead, Iris grinned and ruffled the hair of her cousin, passing a frosting flower over to her who devoured it greedily.

For the rest of the day, and in her dreams, those blood red eyes haunted her mind and the flash of green light blinding her before she awoke with a start.

* * *

It was the laughing that caught her attention first. That new kid, Iris groused, he's drawing too much attention to himself. The lanky bespectacled boy was currently on the ground with the usual schoolyard bullies surrounded him and laughed. She sighed, standing and walking over to their little spectacle with a raised eyebrow.

Drawing closer, she could hear him sniffling. If he cried on her, there'd be hell to pay by both parties. "Hello Thomas." Iris said sweetly, smirking at the suddenly blanched faces and expressions of terror on the other kids' faces.

Whispers of 'it's her' and 'it's Potter' rang clearly in Iris's ears. She smiled at them, a false gesture that didn't reach her eyes. "Er, Potter. Fancy seeing you here."

The messy-haired boy on the ground was wide-eyed at the girl that stood up to her tormentors. With a disappointed sound, Iris took a few moments to assess the situation, watching azure tendrils pulse towards their heads and she began listening in to their thoughts. "You don't learn, do you Thomas?"

"D'you want? You know this kid?" he asked, though the bravado in his voice was cracking under the scrutiny of her gaze. "He's a freak. A nerd."

Smirking Iris stepped closer and whispered into Thomas's ear. "If you don't want me to tell your friends that you were snogging Justin Winter in the classroom, you leave this boy alone." She said sweetly. Blanching, the much larger boy backtracked.

"Come on guys. We have better things to do anyway." He said, his group following him like chicks after their mother hen. Laughing, Iris turned back to study the boy who looked up at her with disbelief and admiration clear on his face.

"You can't let those brats keep bullying you like that." Shaking her head, Iris held out a hand. "I'm Iris, nice to meet you."

With some effort, Iris brought the boy to his feet and they shook hands. "I'm Hector, by the way. Hector Granger."

* * *

Whistling, Iris sat by Hector as they ate lunch under the shade of the tree in the yard. She found that she enjoyed his company. He was funny when it suited him and was definitely smarter than most other students in their year.

Nibbling at the corner of her sandwich, she leaned against the boy, enjoying the fact he tensed up at her touch. Boys were so cute when they didn't know what to do, she mused as she listened to the quiet whispering in his mind. Laughing, she disturbed his thoughts. "So, how do you like it here?"

"Honestly? I feel like a curiosity here. Too smart for our grade, but not smart enough for next." He groused, taking a bite of his own sandwich. "It's always, Hector partner up with me or Hector how are you so smart?"

Iris laughed. "That's only because they don't apply themselves. It's not your fault they're lazy." She observed.

Truth be told, Iris looked forward to the days she spent with Hector at the park. "No complaints there." Hector agreed, taking a mouthful of water from his canteen.

Like all good things, they eventually ended. "Hey. Potter." Her whale of a cousin just had to show up, right? "This your boyfriend? Got advice for you. Stay away from the freak."

Remaining silent, Iris just sat as Hector sat up and looked at Dudley and his gang of bullies. "I am. Staying away from the whale that walks." Hector said casually. He raised an eyebrow at the look of offense that Dudley showed, his three friends looking mixed between snickering and yelling at Hector in anger.

"You won't be laughing when I'm through with you, nerd." Dudley said, cracking his knuckles. The image of a rather rotund boy cracking his knuckles, double chin wobbling wouldn't be frightening. To Iris, who knew her cousin's nature, bowed her head. "Potter. Don't talk to this boy."

"Or what?" Hector asked, his lanky form rising from his seated position as he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Wanna fight, nerd?" Dudley said. "Four of us, only one of you."

That was one line that Iris could never cross. As much as she hated her cousin, she still feared her uncle's temper more. "Hector. Don't." Iris said quietly. The one person she could never use her gift on was her cousin, he was like a blank in the sea of color she saw over everything, nothingness where all else was color. Something that completely and utterly terrified her.

"Iris." Hector said. "You don't have to listen to this bully."

Giving Hector a pained look, all her previous bravado gone, Iris smiled. "It's alright, really. I'll . . . see you around." She said weakly.

"But~" Hector began to protest.

"You heard her. Get lost." Dudley smirked as Hector didn't know who to feel angrier with. Dudley for ruining a perfectly good day, or Iris, the strong girl who told him to stand up for himself and didn't do so for herself. "Go."

With a parting glare at Dudley and a look of disappointment to Iris, he left the park and started walking towards his home.

Staring at his retreating figure, Iris barely noticed when Dudley roughly grabbed her wrist. She studied her feet with interest, a deep stirring feeling of pain in her chest, feeling her tears begin to rise. She wouldn't give Dudley the satisfaction. He wouldn't see her cry.

* * *

Hello everyone,

Here with the sister story to The Lion's Rose, and I'd like to say it's rather fun to write shorter chapters than I'm used to. As I've said in The Lion's Rose, this will hopefully be updated on a weekly basis (rather ambitious for me). This follows the story of what would happen if Harry were born a girl. She seems weak now, but a lot can happen between now and Hogwarts, so I ask you to give me a chance to tell this story.

Rate and review, favorite and follow. I'm always grateful for **Constructive Criticism** so get reviewing. I'd appreciate it if nobody posts anything insulting to me or other readers.

We're only as strong as our lowest moments,

Arilia


	2. Chapter 2

It took nearly two weeks for Hector to work up the nerve to talk with Iris again. The redhead was currently sitting alone on the swings at the park they were at the last time Dudley ruined the day. He couldn't figure it out, how the fiery girl lost her will whenever Dudley was around. The past three times that he'd tried to talk to her with Dudley around, she seemed lifeless.

"Iris." Hector managed to say, standing in front of her. It hurt him, hurt him to see her so dead. "About last week."

"Just, don't. I don't want to talk about it." Iris gritted out, head bowed and hair covering her eyes. "I never meant for you to see me like that." She added, staring intently at her skirt and Hector saw her trembling.

He took a step forward. "Iris. You're shaking." He said carefully, wincing when he heard her laugh. A hollow, empty laugh, devoid of the energy that Iris brought with her.

She didn't respond, instead rubbing her arms with her hands, as if cold. "It's getting chilly; you could stay at my place for a while." Hector offered, watching Iris stiffen at the mention of going anywhere. "My mom's making cookies and we have hot chocolate."

"Alright." Iris said quietly.

On the way back, Hector managed to coax more words out of his friend. She still didn't seem quite normal, well, for whatever passed as normal for the quirky girl. "So, did you catch the last episode of the Doctor yesterday?"

"Doctor who?" Iris asked.

"Yes." Hector replied, somewhat smugly, grinning at the pained expression one made from a bad joke as it spread across Iris's face.

"That joke was great." She deadpanned, smacking him lightly to show her displeasure. "You should definitely try out for a comedy show or something."

"Really?" Hector asked.

She grinned back at him. "Nope."

The rest of the walk passed by in amicable silence, Hector just watching Iris walk whenever she pulled ahead. It never occurred to him how painfully thin she was up until that moment, he'd heard that older girls wanted to eat less to keep a thin figure, but Iris's frame just bordered on emaciated.

The Granger home on Wisteria Walk was as normal as a house was, complete with the fence out front and a small garden that was not as well-kept as Number Four Privet Drive's immaculate garden. The house was like the other houses on the street, two floors, shingled roof and glass windows with drapes on the inside.

Fishing around in his pockets, he pulled out a key and let himself in. "Mum! I'm back. I've brought a friend." Hector called, letting Iris in behind him.

"Hector, you're back early." A woman called from the kitchen. Iris appraised the woman, it was clear that this was where Hector had gotten his hair, rather curly and tamed by a headband. "Oh, you must be Iris. I'm so happy that Hector's found a friend here."

Blinking in surprise, Iris smiled back. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Granger."

She grinned at the little redhead before her. "No need to stand on ceremony, Iris." Mrs. Granger laughed, a rich laugh that sounded nothing like her aunt's cackle or her uncle's snorting choke. "Would you like some cookies? Just baked them."

"Thank you." Iris said, taking a chocolate chip cookie from the platter and taking a bite. Her heart fell, she should have known better since the Grangers were both dentists. "What is this?"

"Oatmeal and raisins."

Figures.

* * *

"Wake up, cousin. We're going to the zoo!" Dudley roared, as an earthquake shook the stairs above the cupboard that the Dursleys had turned into a sort of room for her. Not that a threadbare mattress and a little board nailed to the wall with 'Iris's Room' in paint made it much of a room for her.

Groaning, she opened the door and heard his footsteps, closing it as Dudley rushed past. Rolling her eyes, she shouldered her way out the door and into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Cook the breakfast and try not to burn anything." Petunia instructed. Oh, it was that day. There was a grand total of two days that Petunia was forced into not caring for Iris, her uncle's birthday, which was in December, and the other was today. "I want everything perfect for my Dudley's special day."

"Yes, aunt Petunia." Iris chimed dutifully, noting the massive stack of presents that dominated one side of the room where Abigail was struggling to move among the presents. Whispering to her aunt, Iris grinned. "I hope you have more presents than last year."

"How many are there?" Dudley asked loudly, startling Abigail and causing Iris to roll her eyes.

"Thirty-six, counted them myself." Vernon replied. Well, this ought to be good, Iris mused.

As predicted, the rather rotund boy immediately turned an impressive shade of purple, though a few shades lighter than Vernon during his rampages. "Thirty-six? Last year, last year I had thirty-seven." He bellowed, causing Abigail to cover her ears in protest as Iris placed the pot of coffee and a plate of bacon onto the table, sliding a glass of milk towards Abigail.

"Some of them are bigger than last year's." Iris observed, two of the toys alone that she suspected were vehicular in nature were larger than most household pets.

"Stupid. I don't care how big they are." Dudley argued, stamping his feet. Petunia had to feel she'd failed her son somewhere. Sure, originally she'd wanted her sister's spawn to be unloved, but the girl hadn't displayed too many signs of oddity, in fact she was downright pleasant to be around except for her occasional bouts of moodiness. She's a far better example for Abigail than Dudley was.

Vernon sputtered at Dudley's reaction. "Y-yes, well, that's the surprise. We're going to let you pick out two toys when we go out. Every man needs to learn to make decision." Vernon said. Inwardly, Iris was impressed at her uncle's quick thinking. This seemed to calm Dudley down as he sat and began wolfing down his breakfast.

* * *

Iris ran down the street in the rain, cradling her broken arm. Everything had gone to hell in the scant few hours they'd been back from the zoo. The dark night concealed her flight and the rain her footsteps. Behind her, she heard Vernon roaring obscenities. Good, she thought, the more people who heard the better.

What if they didn't listen to her, a voice nagged in the back of her mind. If they turned her in and went back to the Dursleys, she'd be dead. She thought back to where it all went wrong as she ran down the road.

It had been so normal; after breakfast they'd gone to the zoo. The lions were all asleep, the birds refused to go near Dudley and the wolves snarled at Dudley's passing. This obviously led to a rather irate Dudley, who demanded the animals be killed or other, forcing them to relocate to the aquarium. Rather predictably, after the first incident with the glass that Dudley had kept tapping on, the fish refused to have anything to do with him. She almost laughed at the sight, of the fish anywhere but Dudley's immediate vicinity.

She slipped, crying out as she tumbled and felt warmth from her arm and her head hurt. She tasted iron in her mouth and the warm stream against the cold was definitely blood that got in her eye. Hissing in annoyance, she wiped it away as she continued running. Somewhere, anywhere, was better than getting caught by Vernon.

The reptile house seemed to be like the lions, they were all asleep or refused to go near Dudley. Briefly, she wondered if it was just his attitude, or if the animals all sensed something inherently wrong about Dudley. There was a darkness about him that screamed pain and all animals knew to flee from it. He rapped on the glass, shouting at the snake to move. Predictably, it didn't.

The playground was a mess, muddy and dirty. She had to keep going. The scrapes on her bare feet and her head were nothing compared to the throbbing pain in her arm or her gut, where Vernon's leg had connected. Wiping blood away, she headed in the direction she had followed only a week previous.

The glass disappeared. Dudley knocked Abigail aside as she'd begun observing a snake that looked suspiciously like it understood her. An enraged Abigail had glared at her brother, or the glass and in that instant Iris's eyes widened as a fist of gleaming white light lanced from Abigail to the glass, vanishing it and causing Dudley to topple into the cage.

The snake gave Abigail a thankful nod and a hissed "thankssss." It gleefully slithered away with a call of "Burma, here I come." That had both Iris and Abigail in fits of laughter. Not for too long as the cry of Petunia's astonishment at the latest exhibit, her son, was banging on the glass and crying to be released. Abigail was too busy laughing, though Vernon's dark countenance focused on Iris, who knew precisely where this was going.

The lights of the Granger house flickered in the distance and Iris was about to cry from relief, Vernon had not caught up it seemed. It was only a few more steps, though she slipped again, cracking her head painfully against the pavement. Her luck had to run out sooner or later, as a hard foot kicked into her side. She howled in pain as Vernon loomed over her. "This is going to hurt. You embarrass my son, and make my daughter believe she can talk to snakes." His hand tightened around her throat and Iris choked out a cry.

A deep feeling of anger, resentment and fear bubbled up inside her. With supernatural strength, she slapped his hand away and heard the crack as his wrist dislocated. Roaring like a wounded walrus, whatever that sounded like, she pushed her hands against his chest and concentrated on the same sensation, a pulse of blue light sent him tumbling across the street.

She got to her feet, coughing and turned back to the Grangers house. She felt a tingling at her face at the impressive black eye she no doubt sported. Hammering a fist against the door, she hoped she caught the Grangers at dinner or something or was that bad to disturb their meal?

The door opened and a wide-eyed Mrs. Granger screamed in surprise, hands clapped against her mouth. "Iris! What happened to you? Dan! Help!"

The last thing Iris saw before her vision faded to darkness was a tall man wielding a shotgun threatening her uncle who bellowed in rage. She allowed a smile to grace her lips, she was safe.

* * *

Hello again,

Not much else to say, but here we are at the second chapter to FfR. The muse was with me and I decided to bring this chapter up early. Greetings to the story's followers, happy that at least someone's noticed this story. Thank you for reading, stay tuned for the next chapter.

We're only as strong as our lowest moments,

Arilia


	3. Chapter 3

The Grangers sat in the hospital where Iris had yet to awaken from her medically-induced coma. Hector had yet to leave his friend's side since the disturbance had begun. Truth be told, Daniel Granger was a hair's breadth away from pulling the trigger on the massive man who told him to give him the girl or he'd kill his family.

Needless to say, that was the end of that after Daniel had managed to force him from the house and instructed Hector to lock and barricade the doors while the madman, he'd called the police and filed the complaint on what he saw. How her mother could stomach her father physically abusing her child or how the man could do so anyway, was beyond him.

The doctor, a rather young man was giving a report on the girl's condition that had Daniel shaking in rage. How dare they do that to a young girl, no matter how unnatural her father claimed he was. Broken bones that didn't heal properly, malnutrition, more than once instance of physical abuse was about the final straw that broke the camel's back. On his honor as a doctor, despite the common belief that dentists existed to cause pain, he could not let the girl stay one more day with those horrid people.

So it was too much surprise to see a man in rather gaudy robes of burgundy and electric blue. Briefly, Daniel wondered if he was still dreaming and he'd fallen asleep in the hospital. The look on his family's faces said otherwise as they appraised their latest visitor. "Good evening, I am Albus Dumbledore and I believe you have something of mine." He said, looking towards the bed where Iris remained asleep.

"She doesn't belong to anyone!" Daniel snapped, rising to his feet. His wife, Jeanne, rose with him to confront the man. "She's been through too much, sir. If you think, I'll let you take this child without any proof whatsoever then you have another thing coming." He snarled.

The man who called himself Dumbledore seemed to be contemplating something as he reached for something in his robes. It wasn't common knowledge, but Daniel Granger had been part of the SAS prior to completing his doctorate, who quickly assumed the worst and moved himself to shield his wife and son from what the man would pull.

A length of wood, perhaps a foot in length, came to his hands as the man brandished it like a duelist would a saber. A fluid step placed him within the old man's guard and another had the wood clattering to the floor. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot." The man said with a twinkle in his eye, and Daniel shook the feeling of compulsion that came with drugs. "I ask that you release Iris into my care."

"I don't think so." Daniel ground out, the pressure in his head tightening. That was one thing he learned independently, mind control was a strange thing, it required a focus. Whatever training he recalled on resisting indoctrination clamped down as the pressure reduced and he glared at the man, who looked shocked at the man's resistance to his compulsion charms.

The old man seemed to realize he'd lost, the pressure vanishing completely though Daniel kept his guard up. "I apologize, one cannot be too careful when Iris Potter is involved."

This shocked Hector most of all. Iris had never spoken her last name, but he recalled that Dudley had called her Potter that day. "How do you know Iris?"

"I am a friend of her parents. I was alerted to a dis~"

"Well, you'd better leave, sir. She is not going back to those horrid people ever again." Daniel said.

"Daniel. Let the man finish his story." Jeanne chided, though eyed the old man just as warily.

The old man gulped, it was not supposed to be this difficult. Enter, get the girl, wipe their memories and leave. He sighed, perhaps he'd grown too paranoid in his old age. "Where do I begin?"

"The start."

* * *

Groggily, Iris felt the darkness falling away from her mind like a shroud being pulled off. The harsh lights temporarily blinded her as she kept them shut to stop her eyes from protesting the sudden influx of light. "~that's why I must insist she return to her relatives. She will be safest there." She froze, unbelieving in what she was hearing.

"No. I don't think so." She heard a second man say. "Mister Dumbledore, I appreciate what you've told us. However, I cannot in good conscience return this child to an abusive household." Whoever this man was, she already had Iris's respect.

She stirred, frowning as drowsiness threatened to overtake her as she began to shift under the bed. "Be that as it may, we'd like to adopt the poor girl." The woman said, causing Iris to freeze. Adoption. She knew that word but never in her wildest dreams did she ever believe it might be possible. She could have a family that loved her, siblings like Abigail or Hector. She was so giddy at the prospect she could have jumped if she still didn't feel like she'd been hit by a truck. "Where am I?" Iris mumbled to herself, looking up at the unfamiliar ceiling.

This caught the attention of the people in the room. She winced in pain as someone took to hugging her, someone definitely much heavier than Abigail was. She saw the head of messy brown hair and chuckled. "Hector. I'm fine now." She half-lied.

The Grangers all at once crowded her as a stern-looking man knocked on the door. "Good, the inspector's arrived." The man who could only be Mr. Granger said approvingly, a man in a white coat following him.

"Good morning." The man said with a tip of his hat. "Inspector Jonathan DeMarco, I'd like to get this whole mess sorted out before too long." He said, the expression on his face was neutral.

"Inspector. There is no trouble here." The old man named Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "This is a private matter."

Here, the man smirked. "Be that as it may, professor, I don't think it will look too good on paper if you tried to use a compulsion charm AND legilimancy on an officer." Dumbledore once more looked dumbfounded while the Grangers seemed to take this in stride. "In any event, I'll have to ask Miss Potter here to submit to a few questions and a recollection of the events previous or failing that a memory taken to present evidence to the DMLE."

"It's quite unnecessary to trouble the Lady Bones on a matter such as this." Dumbledore assured the man.

"Director Bones," Jonathan reminded Dumbledore, "was the one who specifically asked for my involvement. You didn't think the post was the only one with undercover wizards, did you?"

Iris laughed, though the brief lance of pain reduced it to a coughing fit that the doctor rushed over to wave his own wand and resolve the matter. "Merlin, where have you been living girl? I've seen prisoners from Nurmengard and Azkaban in better shape than you are."

Jonathan took out a quill and set it against a wall as he pulled a length of parchment and stuck it to the wall as the quill wrote. "Evidence testimony of one Iris Lily Potter on the case against the gross neglect of Albus Dumbledore as her magical guardian and the Dursley family as her muggle caretakers."

The terms flew over Iris's head but she took it to heart as she figured that she'd be free of the Dursleys if she played it right. She nodded as the inspector began his questions. Simple ones at first, her name, her age, her birthday. These were all filed away as the real questions began. "I am sorry if I have to dredge up any bad memories, but all these wounds must have . . . stories attached to them."

Iris nodded, and with a shuddering breath, she began her story.

* * *

It was a few days later that the official transcripts came in, with Iris staying at the Granger house in the interlude, that an owl was knocking on the window. "Dear, could you please get that. It's probably Jonathan's reports." Mrs. Granger called, who was currently cooking the breakfast.

"Yes, mum." Iris replied. It felt nice to call someone her mother, and the Grangers had all but expressed their willingness to adopt her. When she'd actually gotten around to asking, they chalked it up to Hector being quite worried about her and having actually talked to her found her a rather intelligent and witty girl and that they'd always wanted a daughter.

The owl in question was a large grey owl that held out its leg with a hoot as if to say 'Get on with it.' And she untied the note as the bird spread its wings and took off once more into the night. Blinking at the bird's behavior, she shrugged and brought the letter in.

 _Dear Granger Family and Lady Potter,_

 _It is with great pleasure that I inform you on your case's resounding victory in the trial held yesterday. The Wizengamot was in an uproar at the thought of their messiah being mistreated in any form or fashion. It's my duty to inform you that legally you require a magical guardian and that Dumbledore's been pushing for the Weasley family's matriarch, one of his staunchest supporters, to take the position._

 _I've taken the liberty of putting forward several names for consideration, but I'm afraid that Dumbledore might have gotten the list of names and forced them to pull out through whatever machinations he pulls for being the champion of the light. Several of them were close friends of your family and I've checked them for their loyalties to Dumbledore and I have a few who you might be interested in championing your affairs in the wizarding world until your reach the age of majority._

 _Attached is the list as well as my return address via the muggle post or my number which you can call, simply ask for Detective Merlin and they should transfer you to me._

 _Regards,_

 _Jonathan DeMarco_


	4. Chapter 4

A celebration was held for the latest Granger and introductions held to the extended family were chaotic to say the least. Most were surprised that such a polite young girl had found her way into the foster care system and come out intact. Jonathan DeMarco had been instrumental in coming up with documents and papers for Iris on such short notice. Vernon, of course, had gotten his due. "Pity they took away capital punishment." Iris groused, sitting in a corner and nursing a mug of cream soda.

Iris felt safer and happier than she had in years. Greetings from great aunts and uncles and cousins and all their children left her head spinning though she noticed an odd thing about them. Most of the extended Beaumont-Granger family present had the same dull pulse that meant someone was alive, no matter how great the were, they thrummed with the selfsame energy that almost all humans possessed. No, it was the other four that surprised her. Among the sea of normalcy, three others shone with the same intensity that Hector's did. So the Grangers or the Beaumont were a magical family after all, maybe magic did skip a generation . . . or three.

She was drawn to the most powerful of the signals, a well-aged man who looked in his late seventies. He sat with a calm smile as he observed the proceedings and she felt bathed in the warmth that came from Hector or Jonathan or even that old meddler. Noticing her look, his smile widened. "My dear girl, do come closer. I'm afraid my eyesight isn't what it used to be." He chuckled.

Iris sat across him and his eyes widened at the jagged scar on her forehead. "Ah, miss Potter. It does wonders for these old eyes to see you at last." The old man said, a happy, relieved smile on his face. "You look just like your mother."

This got Iris's attention, her eyes widening. "You . . . you knew my mother?" she asked, disbelieving that somehow, she had found a link to her past. Normally, she'd be skeptical about such claims, but the energy radiating off this man, though subdued, was as brilliant as Hector's. "H-how? When did you meet her? I have so many questions."

The old man laughed. "Slow down, child. Yes, you might I'm sure, having disappeared from our world for nearly a decade. Many believed you dead." Tears started to form in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd meet the daughter of Lily Evans."

"When did you meet her? What was she like?" Iris asked quietly.

"So many questions. Just like her, but your hair, so much like that rapscallion." He chuckled, wiping the tears away. "I apologize, I'm rambling now."

"No-not at all, sir." Iris blurted out.

"No. No titles for me, Lady Potter. I'm Hector, Hector Dagworth-Granger, at your service." He said, lowering his head in deference. "Now, your mother, where to begin?" he mused to himself.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

Iris couldn't help but feel nervous. Though she'd been unofficially adopted by the Grangers, who for some reason had the necessary paperwork that came with adoption, she knew they didn't have full custody of her after a conversation with Jonathan DeMarco about the meddling old man named Albus Many-Names Dumbledore.

The first hurdle they'd come across was the fact that Iris had no paper trail whatsoever, rectified by the timely intervention of one of the Grangers' and Jonathan's mutual contact in some department or other. The Dursleys had never gotten around to filing a birth certificate for Iris and much to the anger of the adult Grangers, who were both dentists, had not brought her in for so much as a checkup, something that would both be rectified and used against Vernon's case.

The second was the insistence that Albus Dumbledore had named himself Iris's magical guardian. Rather conveniently in fact, as the Potters had named several individuals who were all for one reason or another, unable to care for or represent her. The most willing of whom was the werewolf, Remus Lupin, who insisted that he couldn't care for her due to his status as a werewolf. It was also known that he was one of Dumbledore's allies during the fight against Voldemort.

These thoughts, and far more, were running through Jonathan DeMarco's head as he rose to face the judge of the court. "Your honor," Jon began, "I would like to present evidence on behalf of miss Potter."

It was the undercover healer from the hospital who had begun his story, producing document after document after X-ray after reading of the sheer incompetency and mistreatment that Iris faced at the hands of Vernon Dursley. Iris recalled that Petunia could do nothing when Vernon was in full-on-bastard mode. With some satisfaction, she noted that the judge and the members of the jury were turning an interesting shade of green as the list of health hazards and unattended injuries.

The following accounts of teachers were the next in the series of questioned individuals, speaking of how intelligent Iris was as a student and of their concerns being brushed off by Petunia and outright angered the Dursley patriarch. The former of whom objected under threat of violence from the massive man.

Nothing looked to be going in Vernon's favor, whose lawyer's defense did not hold under the careful attack of Jonathan. "Is there anything the victim would like to say at this juncture."

With a glance at the Grangers and giving Hector's hand a brief squeeze, she ascended the steps. "You." She began, looking directly at Vernon's red face. "You made my life a miserable, living hell." She hissed, trembling in outright anger.

For the next three minutes she was allowed to speak, Iris did something she vowed never to do again, she poured her heart out. "You beat me, starved me, you spoiled my cousin rotten to show me that I would never, could never be like him. You hurt Aunt Petunia. You hurt Abigail. I have no idea why you did it, no matter how many times I asked, you didn't answer. To you, I was always the freak, the one who should have died. I will never, can never forget what you did to me. I will carry all the scars you've given me for the rest of my life." She said, the hall deathly quiet as this little girl shared a story that had only been discussed in brief and in whispers behind closed doors.

The deliberations didn't last much longer and the judge gave Vernon a dark look. "This court finds Vernon Dursley, on the counts of gross neglect, physical abuse and domestic violence among other crimes." He paused, turning to smile in solidarity at Iris, before uttering four words that changed Iris's life forever.

"Guilty of all charges."

* * *

Iris grinned widely at the sight of a birthday cake, her birthday cake, dark chocolate with eleven candles and a frosting-drawing of a dalek in white frosting on the cake. "Happy birthday, dear." Jeanne smiled at her adopted daughter, who absolutely glowed in happiness.

Hector the Elder, better known as Old Hector to the residents of number nine Wisteria Walk, had moved in with the family, citing a desire to be near the newest of the Granger family and stood behind Iris. In truth, he'd been teaching Iris the ins and outs of potions because the potion master at Hogwarts was, in his own words, "a hook-nosed bat with more arrogance than tact and a vengeful streak so wide it encompassed the offender's extended family."

Hector, now Iris's adopted older brother, smiled at her approval over the offering of a slice of the cake following a highly off-key rendition of the birthday song. "Happy birthday, little sister." Hector greeted, ruffling her hair, earning a noise of disapproval from Iris.

"Not the hair!" she whined, her already messy hair made even worse as Hector's hand ruffled the carefully done hair. In a bushy mane, it wasn't hard to chalk up her hair to the Beaumont side and a recessive gene. She gave a grunt of annoyance and took to lacing his shoes together with a small burst of magic that earned a cautionary look from Old Hector.

All seemed right with the world, including the appearance of Petunia and Abigail, the latter of which gave Iris a hug. Dudley, she'd been informed, had been left at Vernon's request to his sister, something about having a proper straightening up or other. Petunia simply stood by in the corner and watched.

Abigail had gotten along marvelously with the Granger family, who Iris assured had nothing to do with her mistreatment. If anything, Iris had protected her on the occasional bouts that Vernon came home dead drunk and hid her in the cupboard while Vernon beat on her. Wondering where this line of thought had come from, Iris observed her parents talking in hushed tones with Petunia who kept glancing towards Iris.

"How have you been?" Abigail asked, hugging Iris.

"Better, thanks. How are things with aunt Petunia back at home?"

Screwing up her face in distaste, Abigail laughed. "Can't do anything without you, I don't know how mum is going to manage without you."

Petunia took this opportunity to make her approach. Looking down at her niece, Petunia handed her the package with both hands. "These belonged to your parents. It was all they could salvage from your home." Petunia said quietly.

Unwrapping the simply wrapped present, Iris took a deep breath as two lengths of wood sat in a case of dark wood and velvet. "I managed to keep them from Vernon. As much as I had a . . . falling-out with Lily. I never wanted her to die. This was all I had left."

Iris felt warmth emanating from the paler of the two. Immediately she recognized the feeling of warmth and comfort as red and green sparks came from the tip. Smiling, she waved it about and the sparks fell all around her like snow. She laughed as the pent up feeling in her chest vanished and was replaced by a giddy sensation.

Still holding her mother's wand, she pulled out a rather worn journal with the words 'Experiment Notes' in a clean, flowing script. Turning the first page, Iris let out a small sound. Taped to the back of the cover, a picture of a smiling woman and a smirking man danced on the film. With tears in her eyes, Iris looked up at her aunt. "Thank you."

* * *

Hello everyone,

Welcome once again to the latest installment of Flowers for Ravens and a few notices on the two stories. I've decided to put the sibling story to this, the Lion's Rose, on hold as this seems to be the more popular of the two. I'll hopefully be updating a bit faster though this may slow down as I'm reworking another of my stories over on the Code Geass section.

I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, I'm sorry for the late update. I really really hate wisdom teeth extractions and exams so very much. In any event, I hope to hear from all of you on what you think of the story.

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	5. Chapter 5

Minerva McGonagall was both mystified and incensed to say the least. Her brother's oaf of a grandson's godson's son, confound the wizarding world and the need to know who knew who, had just been arrested. Now, normally this wouldn't concern her, however considering he was arrested for physically abusing a minor did. Considering said minor was Iris Lily Potter, someone who was as good as her own granddaughter, had angered her to no little degree.

Currently under orders to do the rounds with the muggleborn children, she found herself standing in front of number nine Wisteria Walk. The house was modest by muggle standards as she recalled, two floors and a shingled roof, a modestly sized yard where two children, a boy and a girl played. Minerva froze, it was like seeing Lily Potter returned from the dead, with her red hair and bright green eyes that flashed with life as she tossed a ball to the boy across her.

Dispelling the notice-me-not charm, she was surprised to see the girl twitch in recognition of the magic, head turning away from their game of catch to appraise the new arrival. She clearly recognized the outfit, the admittedly simple dress she wore was ancient by muggle standards and a dead giveaway according to many of the older muggleborn.

First to react, Minerva stepped along the path leading to the house, heels clacking along the stone. "Good day," she greeted, formalities for dealing with muggles were hazy at best for most witches, but then again Minerva had a lot of practice. "Is this the Granger household?"

A nod confirmed her suspicions. "Yes ma'am. What did you need?" Hector asked.

"I think it best that your parents be here for this explanation, are they in?" Minerva answered.

Nodding, Hector turned back to where the redhead was walking up to them, wiping a bit of perspiration from her brow. "Iris, go see if dad's out back. I'll let our guest in." With a nod, the Lily clone identified as Iris sped off to the back of the house as Hector entered the house and gestured Minerva in. "Mum?" Hector called. "We have a guest."

A woman with rather bushy hair appeared from the kitchen. "Yes Hector? Ah, who might you be?" she asked, turning now to McGonagall.

"Minerva McGonagall. I'm here on behalf of an exclusive boarding school in Scotland, your son and daughter have a particular gift that we'd like to help cultivate." McGonagall said as a dark-haired man and the girl, Iris, came in from the back. "Perhaps it's best you sit down for this."

Admittedly, Minerva was rather surprised that the family didn't look as surprised as the others did at the mention of magic and the wizarding world. "You all seem to be taking this news rather well." Minerva observed.

Daniel Granger shot his daughter a pointed look before replying. "We have a relative who's from your world actually. He explained it to us when our daughter here decided it was a good idea to turn her brother into a goat."

Blinking in surprise, Minerva racked her brain for any mention of a Granger in the magical world. "I apologize, but are you referring to Hector Dagworth-Granger? He's been missing for nearly two decades." Minerva said.

"No. Not missing." An aged man said, coming from one of the rooms on the ground floor. "Just in hiding."

"Hector." Minerva addressed the man formally.

"Minnie McGonagall. How many years has it been since you graduated? Going on three, four decades now?" he asked.

"That would be telling, professor." She said, before nodding her head.

"Retired. I believe Slughorn took my position after I left." Old Hector chuckled. "Now, you of course know my nephew's son by now. Goes by my name. His sister, you'll recognize from her mother."

The Granger family, seemingly used to this by now, simply laughed at Minerva's dumbfound expression.

"W-who are you?"

Taking a deep breath, Iris sighed. "Lady Iris Lily Potter, head of house Potter by right of birth. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

* * *

Iris huffed in annoyance as Old Hector drilled her once more in etiquette. Though not a noble by any means, the potions master used to be a common sight in gatherings of the rich and powerful thanks to his contacts and as such was well versed in the social rituals the pureblood families were well acquainted with. It was only fitting as lady of a noble house, not to mention its head, that Iris know the conventions of wizarding formality was basically required.

Curtseying fluidly, she wore a wry smile at Old Hector's nod of approval. "Back straight, my lady." He reminded her. That was another funny little thing, it so happened that he owed her birth mother a few favors after something she had begun calling the genderswap incident. She wasn't one to enjoy ordering people around, but having a potions master on retainer was a great status symbol for her. Iris also wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she accepted his oath rather readily.

Rising, she held out a hand that Old Hector, even in his old age, managed a respectable bow and brushed his lips to her knuckles. Fighting back the giggle at the odd scene, she managed a straight face as he returned to his full height, which was only four or so inches above her own petite frame. Still going to grow, she thought to herself.

"How many noble houses?" he quizzed her.

Answering dutifully, she rattled off the names of the houses. "~thirty in total." She finished. "Heads of house are~"

"You've forgotten three." Old Hector noted.

Grimacing, Iris repeated the names and added the remaining three. "Sirius Orion Black, Adrian Devon Greengrass Senior and Brutus Thomas Cromwell."

"Heirs and heiresses apparent?" he asked next.

"~Daphne Alyss Greengrass, Rebecca Lyra Cromwell, Draco Lucius Malfoy." She finished. "Why is it all the pureblood nobles are in Slytherin?"

"It's to do with it being the house of the cunning and ambitious. They're taught from a young age to take every advantage they can, though how many of the thirty are not in Slytherin?" he asked, smiling at her groan.

"Twelve . . . no fourteen? Wait! Thirteen." She said finally.

"Fourteen."

"Damnit." She sighed, rattling off their names and affiliations as either light, neutral or dark.

"Hector, lad. Get in here and help your sister with her dancing." Okay, so that was another fun part of being a noble, for her at least. It made her feel like a princess, she was a ten-year old girl, she could very well enjoy the fairytales of princesses, dances, gowns and castles, thank you very much.

Grumbling, Hector entered the room. With a practiced bow, Hector smirked at his sister. "May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked, holding out a hand. Spinning her into an entrance for the waltz, he took her hand as Old Hector played a tune on the piano, a slow number.

"Do you really want to do this?" Hector asked. "You can always enter the school as Iris Granger, you know that right?"

Iris hummed. "Just don't say anything at first? I'd like to meet some people without them falling over themselves."

"I suppose that's a good idea." Hector conceded.

Iris grinned. "Of course it is."

Finishing the number with a final twist, Iris extracted herself from her brother. "Which reminds me, did you ever hear back from Gringotts on the Potter accounts?" Hector asked.

Iris grinned. "Let's just say I have more money than I'll ever know what to do with."

* * *

The zoo was a rather noisy place, thought that usually happened wherever a large number of children gathered. Iris was made to mind Abigail as the latter dragged the former around the petting zoo, cooing over the cubs and furry animals that, admittedly were rather adorable.

Iris allowed her hand to run over a particularly fluffy rabbit she was crouched over, smiling as the soft fur tickled her hand while laughing as Abigail was surrounded by even more of the furry creatures. This scene attracted a number of other children who were attempting to join in. Abigail laughed as she sat cross-legged amidst the veritable sea of animals. Iris noted a subtle field around her cousin that seemed to draw the animals near.

Iris blinked away her surprise, the familiar feeling of being watched sent a tingle up her spine and she looked around, catching maybe a glimpse of an oddly dressed individual somewhere in the crowd but chalked it up to her just being paranoid.

"Iris! Come see!" Abigail called, Iris torn from her search as she approached her cousin, who was now surrounded by the larger animals that dwarfed the young girl, much to the dismay of the other children.

Shaking her head, Iris went after Abigail amidst the sea of animals. Unfortunately, a massive snake took this chance and approached, standing nearly three times Iris's height, with eyes like glowing embers and scales as pale as snow. Green energy crackled from its mouth as it hissed, _"AVADA KEDAVRA"_ and her world vanished in a blast of viridian light.

Sitting up in bed, Iris rubbed her eyes and tried to clear the green that still carried over from her dream. Grumbling, she frowned at the disarray of her room. Accidental magic. "Of course." she sighed.

* * *

Hello everyone,

Welcome once more to another chapter of Flowers for Ravens. Sorry for a slower start than I'd like. I really thought I'd be starting Hogwarts by now but all these little snippets of life keep popping up and delaying me writing the actual beginning of Iris and her first year at Hogwarts.

I'd like to hear what you all have to say about the story, all your reviews gives me motivation and fills me with determination to continue writing this story. As much as I love writing these stories for all of you, I enjoy hearing back from all of you. Any questions any of you might have or any tidbits you'd like to tell me are always welcome.

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	6. Chapter 6

Diagon alley was, in a word, chaotic. Starting from where they entered, Iris knew the wizarding world was mildly insane. Personally, she hated all the attention, it had gotten old after the first four had about fallen over themselves in a bid to thank her for something she didn't recall. In her mind, at least, the ones to thank were her birth parents.

"I researched about them ever since Professor McGonagall told us about them. I'd like an owl, useful as familiars and loyal pets." Hector said, brushing the feathers of a particularly handsome looking brown owl that perched on his shoulder. Iris, meanwhile, had selected a particularly regal looking owl with white feathers.

Paying the shopkeeper, the Grangers and their new pets left and began tossing out names for the animals in the Leaky Cauldron.

Speaking around a bit of steak, Hector had chosen the name Tardis for his own large brown owl. Iris, meanwhile, had decided on Galadriel for her own smaller and if she were to be poetic about it, graceful and regal.

"So where do we head first? I imagine a bank of some sort to get our money changed." Daniel said, looking at the family.

"Gringotts is the main bank, Grandpa Hector told me all about it. Apparently, the Potter family is some big name in the Wizarding World. I've asked Grandpa Hector to manage everything until I come of age." Iris explained.

"So your family is rich or something?" Jeanne asked. The Grangers never did have a reason or cause to talk about Iris's birth family after all.

Hector scoffed. "Try nobility."

"So why take our name over your own?" Daniel asked curiously. "Not that I'm complaining, legally you are our daughter and we love you as much as we do Hector." He added.

"Because I don't want to be remembered as The-Girl-Who-Lost-Her-Parents. Grandpa Hector mentioned that they don't think highly of muggleborns, so I figured I'd give them a better reputation." Iris answered truthfully.

"That's very mature of you." Jeanne pointed out over desert as Iris was happily digging into a multicolored sphere of ice cream.

"Well, the truth would come out eventually, but I did grow up without magic until this year and with a few more weeks to go, Grandpa Hector's been teaching Hector and I a lot about magic. I think we'll surprise the teachers there, for the first few days at least."

"Enough of this talk." Daniel smiled. "We're about done, let's see exactly what your parents left you."

* * *

Books. Books everywhere. Iris had instantly fallen in love with the Potter vault after stepping into it. Despite the often boring hours she spent back in the Dursley house, Petunia had taught her and her cousins to read, though only Abigail showed an interest in literature as Dudley was too busy stuffing his face or with his eyes squinted too close to the television screen.

"If magic can make food then I could stay here until term started." Iris mused, the second floor of the immense Potter vault housed a virtual library of tomes. "Moste Potente Potions, I've heard that it teaches you to brew almost any potion, but there are only a thousand copies in the world. Spellcrafter's Syllabus, this is amazing." Iris laughed, Hector having taken three or four books into his backpack while Daniel and Jeanne were still attempting to take in the sight of the piles of gold in the main chamber.

"There's so much stuff in here, it'll take us forever to read everything." Hector noted.

"We've got that much time. Witches and wizards live usually live twice as long as normal people."

Nodding his agreement, Hector took to looking through the spellbooks. "How many books d'you think are in here?"

"Hundreds. Some of this stuff is positively ancient." Iris said, thumbing through a copy of their first year book, though with their mother's notes scribbled among the pages. She dropped it into her own bag and continued to look through the pages.

Iris picked up her mother's potions book, marveling at all the detailed notes she held. Of course, that was another thing that scared her. The thought of eleven and twelve year-olds handling potions that could disastrously explode or act the wrong way, combined with the fact that a lot of adult wizards. She'd asked Old Hector on the subject and agreed that a Bezoar in her pocket at all times was a necessary precaution.

If her mother's old journal entries were anything to judge by, her potions master was brilliant but slightly obsessed with her mother. Considering the comments from the few witches and wizards she met, combined with old pictures from her aunt, all pointed towards the fact that she looked like a carbon copy of her mother when she was her age.

"Hey, Hector." Iris said to distract herself from lingering on thoughts of her dead biological mother. "What do you think of wards?"

"That Dumbledore should have recommended wards on the twenty times he's visited to persuade you home?" Hector replied. "Here." He handed her a pair of small emerald earrings in a velvet box.

Smirking mischievously, Iris sighed dramatically. "Oh brother mine, I didn't know you felt that way. Giving a girl jewelry is one way to her heart."

Hector blushed, muttering something about proper behavior and appearances while Iris laughed.

"Relax, I know you didn't mean anything by it." Iris turned on Hector with a confused look. "Wait a second. Why don't we have wards installed at the house?"

"Because the old meddler still wants to remove you from the house, for whatever reasons." Hector offered.

"What are these anyway?" Iris moved the small emeralds inlaid in silver into the light. "They're pretty though."

"I think they're your mom's invention. Says here they block mind reading attempts." Hector said, reading a piece of paper stuck on the inner lid of the box.

"That should come in handy, but who reads the mind of teenagers? What would teenagers be thinking of anyway?" Iris remarked, confused.

Shrugging, Hector turned back to a book that he wanted to bring with him. "You think it would be cool if we could turn into animals?" Hector asked, holding up a book labeled 'The Authentic Animagus: The Step-By-Step Process'.

"What could possibly go wrong?" Iris asked innocently, taking the book from Hector.

* * *

The Granger family departed magical bank an hour or so later, and despite the protest of Daniel and Jeanne, Iris insisted upon repaying the family with setting up the Granger household's wards and floo connection.

Walking into Madam Malkin's, Iris blinked at the sight of a tired-looking man with three horizontal scars across his face. He was deep in conversation with a young woman before he smiled and hugged her, departing. "I'll see you tonight."

"Be safe." The woman called as he apparated away. Iris barely had time to consider this information before the woman rounded on her with a smile. "Welcome to Madam Malkin's, I'm Evelyn Lupin and I'll be helping you today."

"Thank you." Iris said.

"Firstie?" Evelyn smiled knowingly.

"Pardon?" Iris asked. "Sorry, not familiar with the term."

Evelyn looked surprised for a moment before it clicked for her. "Ah. Muggleborn then. It's a term we have for first year students. I expect you'll be needing the full set?"

Nodding, Iris followed Evelyn's instructions, holding up her arms while Evelyn took measurements and stuck pins around a standard robe. This continued for the standard skirt, blouse and other parts of the uniform.

A blonde boy entered the store, his nose in the air followed by a rather severe looking woman dressed in black. "Lady Malfoy, welcome to Madame Malkin's. If you'd wait a moment, I'll get your usual tailor." Evelyn said, rushing behind the counter to the back of the store.

The boy swaggered over, eyeing Iris up and down like a piece of meat. "Pretty girl like you must have a name. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." he said smoothly. Oddly, the first thing Iris wanted to do was ask what hair products he used.

"Iris." Iris replied. Now was as good a time as any to figure out if he was one of the traditional purebloods that Old Hector had warned her about. While she agreed on the points that the muggleborn introducing too many new ideas was destroying wizarding culture, she didn't agree that they should all be banned or killed for something they were unable to control. That and someone 'stealing' magic was absurd. "Nice to meet you."

Normally, this would be a massive breach in decorum between two magical houses, however Iris had never introduced herself formally and as such the pleasantries weren't required. An interesting little interpretation, Iris thought.

Draco didn't seem as impressed, as his smile turned into a smirk. "What do your parents do for a living?" Tactless, obviously. Iris suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and instead brought up a fake look of interest.

"My parents are dentists. They should be back in a few minutes. Oh, right, my brother Hector. Hector, this is Draco Malfoy." Iris said, inwardly laughing at the look that Draco had on that resembled ingesting something sour.

Iris knew she heard the word 'mudblood' muttered under his breath and had to suppress a grin, a sigh and a snarl at the word. Dirty blood, impure blood, blood blood blood. If Iris didn't know that the wizards and witches had bred far enough apart, usually, she'd have believed they were all inbred. Which likely wasn't far from the truth anyway.

Hector, unfazed, extended a hand in greeting that Draco didn't take. Iris was about to pull her wand out when her parents returned, carrying books in a cauldron for Hector. The woman sneered openly while the Grangers introduced themselves. "I'm sorry, but did I say something wrong?" Daniel asked, looking to Iris for confirmation.

"I don't know, Draco was saying something about blood when you two walked in and while I was introducing him to Hector."

"In the wizarding world, you're known as a mudblood. People with muggle parents anyway." Draco explained, while the woman smirked. "You should learn to respect your superiors."

Iris tried and succeeded to keep an offended expression when Hector stepped forward angrily. "What did you call my sister?" Hector snapped, popping his knuckles, standing three inches taller than Draco. Bless him, Iris thought, he's become so protective.

"Mudblood. Not just her, you as well." Draco replied. Okay, Iris thought, this boy seriously had no sense of tact. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, Evelyn chose the moment to appear with an older woman beside her.

As if nothing happened, Draco went to have his robes fitted as Hector glared at Draco. If looks could kill, Draco would have been hit by the killing curse, but as it stood, Hector allowed himself to be measured without too many problems.

"I see you've met the Malfoys." Evelyn noted. "Don't take it personally, their son's really a right piece of work. I knew his wife before she married." She said.

"It's not true though, is it? That wizards call people like my sister and me mudbloods?"

Evelyn had a sour expression. "It's not something you hear in polite or civilized conversation. People like you are muggleborn, those with non-magical parents." She said, nodding to Daniel and Jeanne, who were both examining the robes on the racks.

"And the ones with the stick up their arse who think they own the world?" Iris asked.

Laughing, Evelyn shot her a look that said 'I like you already, kid' and grinned. "Right. People like them are what we call purebloods. Those with several generations worth of genetic defects thanks to inbreeding under their belts." Evelyn muttered under her breath, much to Hector and Iris's amusement.

"Well, that's that. Give me a bit and I'll have your robes finished." Evelyn said.

Daniel stayed behind to collect the robes and uniforms upon their completion. "We'll go and get Hector's wand then meet you at the Leaky Cauldron." Jeanne said.

* * *

The store that belonged to Olivander was tiny and absolutely stacked with boxes. Barely space enough for seven people, especially when one of those was busy brandishing wand after wand after wand and having everything from explosions to shattering glass to making all the wand boxes fly off shelves occur.

An excitable young girl was laughing at the antics caused by Olivander's inability to find a wand that suited her. An older woman looked absolutely horrified at the destruction, though Olivander seemed delighted at the sight.

"Sorry to make the two of you wait, I'm just so excited to start, my gran was so pleased that I didn't turn out a squib. Oh, sorry, listening to me ramble on. I'm Nora, Nora Longbottom." The bubbly girl smiled, giving both Hector and Iris an energetic shake of the hand.

"No need to apologize. I'm Iris, and this is my brother, Hector." Iris grinned, the bubbly blonde's energy was infectious.

"Pleasure." Hector said, briefly wondering if the newly identified Nora had in fact broken or dislocated anything with her energetic greeting. "I assume you're a first year, like us."

"Yes I am." Nora chirped, with all the energy she had, Iris couldn't help but laugh at the vision of the older woman looking like she had consumed several lemons. "What houses are the two of you hoping to be in?"

"I'd like to be in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart." Hector grinned, despite his side as being an intellectual, he was still a boy and did fill out after Iris's urging to take some form of sport. Hector was rather taken with the idea of Quidditch, and though Iris also longed to try the sport, she found herself more the academic than her brother.

"Boys." Iris rolled her eyes. "I think I'll fit in with the Ravenclaws. I always did like learning more than Hector did."

"Because your nose is in a book nearly every time I see you when we're at home." Hector reminded her.

"Am not." Iris shot back.

"Are to." Hector grinned.

This exchange happened for a few more seconds until Jeanne finally ended with a threat of grounding until they left for Hogwarts if that kept up. Hector finally stepped up and after nearly a dozen wands, was found to be a match with a particularly uncompromising wand of what Olivander called "an unyielding, noble wand of cypress and dragon heartstring."

When Iris made to test for her wand, Olivander smiled at her. "I was wondering when I'd be seeing you, miss Potter." He smiled warmly.

Iris blanched, he'd recognized her? Then again, a lot of people did, so it wasn't anything special that Olivander did. "Y~you recognized me?"

He laughed, a warm, somewhat coughing laugh. "Yes, yes. Don't worry, I won't say a thing. Terrible business with your parents, you do look so much like your mother."

"Don't miss a beat, do you?" Iris relaxed.

"My dear child, when you've been observing people as long as I have, you'll learn to read people's intentions without mind magic." He chuckled. "Ah well, you've indulged my need for conversation long enough."

Wand after wand came into Iris's grasp, though met only with a weak sputter or even an uncontrollable conflagration had Olivander jumping for joy at the thought of such a powerful young witch. "I've never failed to match a witch to her wand yet." He said, holding out the sixteenth wand.

With a wave, the wand roared out green light that had her drop it as she clutched her head in pain. "What . . . was that?" she gasped.

Olivander paled visibly, before retrieving the wand and flinching at the sudden heat the wand emitted. "Grigori core . . . this is not good."

"What's not good?" Hector demanded, having stayed silent this long.

"Miss Potter, it might have to do with the brother of this wand's owner. The one who gave you that scar owned this wand's twin as it were. I confess, that I had hoped this wand would take to you as twin wands are known to repel the other." Olivander said. "I am sorry. I am so sorry that I made you go through that."

"Exactly what happened?" Jeanne asked.

"The wand reacted to something, I don't know what, maybe residual magic. There is something interfering with your daughter's magical core, I have my suspicions, though none bode well." Olivander said, almost reverently, before his eyes flicked up to where the scar was hidden by her bangs.

"What does that mean?" Iris gulped, feeling the intense pain and inherent wrongness radiating from the wand shortly before Olivander handed her yet another wand.

"It means that there is something about you, miss Potter. Something that is of interest to both the light and the darkness, however I should have done the right thing. I admit that I was recommended this by a certain old man whose feather his pet gave for the wands."

"Dumbledore." Iris supplied.

"Quite." Olivander said, taking the offending wand and replacing it in a case and storing it within a safe behind him that closed with the finality of a coffin lid.

The rest of their meeting was more subdued as Olivander remained in a thoughtful state until a wand shot silver and red sparks and Olivander looked happier now that Iris had been paired with a wand, though she'd never tell that she in fact still had her mother's wand. "Dogwood and unicorn hair, how interesting."

* * *

Hello everyone,

Here's the latest installment and I hope you enjoyed the read. I'm really hoping to extend the chapters to around 2,500 words - 3,000 words while still trying to maintain the weekly updates. I'm aware that Hector is a bit more, I suppose you could call it headstrong, or at least more forward. That's because I wanted a more outgoing Hector, the side that Iris brought out after living with them for a year. Iris is a bit more careful about who she really wants to let close, but maintains a friendly or fun persona.

The main reason she's decided on taking the Granger family's name is that as Iris Potter, she'd be subject to the limelight, something that she isn't really fond of. Put simply, if you're remembered because your parents died to get rid of a psychopath and you just happened to luck into a loophole, you aren't one to want to celebrate the fact your parents are dead. Otherwise, it's really just to mess with Dumbledore.

We'll be arriving at Hogwarts next chapter assuming I don't get sidetracked again. On that note, I'm not the only one who wonders just why Dumbledore left such second-rate protection to guard the philosopher's stone right? So many things could go wrong and it's just irritating to think that Dumbledore would rely on a bunch of first years to clean up the mess. I mean, he could have just had Harry confront Quirrel faster and saved them all the trouble of the "protections" oh well, whatever, that's a problem for another time.

Let me know what you all think. As always, reviews are much appreciated and just letting me know that you enjoy the story is great, it's what lets me push on writing this story for you all.

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	7. Chapter 7

Iris shrugged on a white blouse and a skirt, pulling her messy red hair back into a ponytail. She left sufficient hair to cover her forehead and the reminder of her birth parents' sacrifice. The breakfast was oddly, or rather not so oddly, subdued. Then again, the Grangers had only ever had Hector go for sleepovers and Iris only ever hung out with maybe three or four people.

"Are you certain you want to go through with this?" Jeanne asked, looking down at her daughter with something of worry. "I know we allowed the change in the magical world thanks to Amelia, but your granduncle says its unusual."

"Mum, I'll be fine." Iris replied, smiling as she fussed with her hair.

The trip was relatively quiet, with Daniel giving reminders every few minutes. "Behave yourselves." He said, glancing through the rearview at Iris who flushed a light pink. "Iris, you make sure Hector focuses on his studies."

"Yessir." Iris said, shooting him a salute. Daniel shook his head and returned to driving.

"You two write, we'll be expecting letters every week." Jeanne reminded them.

With a sheepish look, Iris glanced towards Hector and they both shrugged. "We'll do what we can." Hector replied diplomatically.

Iris let her mind wander to her mother's journal. Something didn't add up, she frowned. The journal in the Gringotts vault labeled Sirius Black as the secret keeper. Her mother's named Albus Dumbledore. It didn't make any sense to her. He may have been a manipulative old man, but the Potters were some of his closest supporters. He wouldn't betray them.

Yet he left Iris with the Dursleys, something that the Potter will said should never have happened. Iris frowned as the facts Dumbledore had given her, were written in her history book, didn't add up with what her mother had written.

Her guardians, people who were supposed to take her in if the Potters had met an untimely end. Alice and Frank Longbottom, tortured to insanity. Remus Lupin, a werewolf and Dumbledore's man according to DeMarco. Sirius Black, tried and imprisoned. Petra Pettigrew, dead. The list went on and on, all incapacitated or related to Dumbledore in order to refuse custody.

Iris's musing ended as she was shaken by Hector. "We're almost here, Iri." She shook those dark thoughts from her mind as their car drove into the parking lot and Daniel helped pull the trunks from the back and piled them onto a trolley. "Alright you two, let's get you settled in, we've got twenty minutes."

Being close to eleven, there wasn't so much foot traffic and the Grangers could easily pass as going on a short trip with only two trunks with them. Despite their archaic appearance, the trunks were at least highly durable and some still preferred them to the suitcases that have appeared in recent years.

"Come on, platform nine and three-quarters this way!" a matronly woman with ginger hair was shepherding a group of five children. Iris couldn't help but equate them to a mother duck and her ducklings following in a line behind her.

"Who shouts that out loud? What about the statute of secrecy and everything?" Hector asked, to Iris's shrug.

Old Hector had never explained how to get onto the platform, Iris realized as they looked around. "Where's the platform?" she hissed as Hector looked around.

"Dunno, you'd think they'd tell muggleborn where everything was."

Iris felt it then, the raw magic pulsing in front of them. She turned, the colorful silhouettes of the red-haired family contrasted with the grey around them. It was the bright blue barrier that posed as a wall that drew Iris's attention.

"What is that?" Iris breathed, feeling the powerful magic admitting one of the bright outlines through but a small tendril kept the duller lights from walking into the barrier.

"How to get onto the platform, yes. It's my son, Ron's, first year as well." The red-haired woman was saying, looking at Iris who was still entranced by the barrier at this point. "What you do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten."

"Good luck." The littlest redhead smiled as Hector and Daniel watched as another of the ginger haired children ran into the barrier and disappeared from sight.

Hector ran with Daniel first and they too vanished, Hector's magic permitting Daniel through as Iris approached with Jeanne. "Ready?" she asked.

Iris nodded, and together, they ran towards the barrier.

* * *

Finding herself along the middle of the train with Hector having disappeared somewhere, and a meeting with Susan and her best friend Hannah, Iris was happy to spend the ride in their company. "And Malfoy called you one?" Susan asked in disbelief while Hannah was between being making angry noises and roaring in laughter at the Malfoy scion's lack of tact.

"I know; his father is going to have kneazles when word gets out he insulted the 'girl-who-lived' in public." Iris grinned.

"You really shouldn't have let him call you that, my lady." Hannah said between breaths.

"I've also told you not to call me that. For all anybody knows, I'm Iris Granger. For now, at least." Iris grinned. "I can't wait to see the look on Dumbledore's face when Iris Potter isn't called."

"Professor Dumbledore." Susan reminded her.

Iris shrugged. "If he-with-too-many-names wants to say something about it, he's welcome to. I have the law enforcement head for a magical guardian."

Susan frowned. "You know Aunt Amy is against throwing her title around." She reminded Iris pointedly.

"I know, and I won't have to if our esteemed headmaster doesn't see fit to meddle in my life any more than he did."

"Those muggles you talked about were really horrible." Hannah pointed out. "What was he thinking?

"How am I supposed to know what a senile old man thinks?" Iris asked rhetorically, "in any case, I'm really just hoping for a quiet six years until I actually have to take the Potter name, then I'll deal with all the marriage contracts then."

"How do you plan to do that?" Susan asked.

Iris hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose I'll deal with it when the time comes."

Almost like clockwork, at twelve in the afternoon Hector appeared with a worried look. "Iri. We have a bit of a problem."

Raising an eyebrow, Iris looked at her adopted brother with something between curiosity and worry. "So, who did you push off the train."

"I tried with Malfoy when he made fun of you. Wait, that's not the point. There's this kid claiming to be your brother or something. Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived." Hector said.

Iris began laughing, not a giggle or a chuckle, clutching the stitch in her side. "Oh. Oh that's too rich. I can't believe that old meddler was desperate enough since he couldn't get to me."

Susan, Hannah and Hector looked at Iris in worry as she continued to laugh. "Iris. This is serious!" Susan snapped.

Forcing down further laughter, Iris couldn't help but smile at Hector's statement. "I know." She grinned. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up." Iris said.

"Care to share your brilliant idea with the rest of us mortals?" Hector asked.

"If Dumbledore wants a savior of the wizarding world to be his puppet, I could care less if he made a clone of me. He just gave me the best way to stay out of the limelight." Iris replied.

At that moment, a dark-haired by with messy hair appeared. "Granger. That's where you went." The boy said smoothly. The red-haired boy from the station; Roan, if Iris recalled, followed a bit like a lost puppy.

"Potter." Hector nodded.

"And who might the three of you be?" the boy asked. "Right. Manners. I'm Potter. Harry Potter."

"And I'm Bond. James Bond." Iris deadpanned, Hector and Hannah laughing loudly at Iris's quip, Susan looked confused while Harry and Ron looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Iris Granger. I'm Hector's sister."

"Hannah Abbot." Hannah said.

"Susan Bones." Susan replied.

"Charmed." Harry sneered. Alright, Iris thought, this might not be the best person. Where did Dumbledore even find this boy? Iris wondered. He did look scarily like her biological father had in his youth. "Come on, Granger. Let's go find the food trolley."

Hector glanced to his sister who was containing her mirth well enough. "Go on, I'll just be here."

The moment they left, Iris collapsed into new laughter as Susan and Hannah leaned against each other and laughed hysterically. Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Iris took a full three minutes to get down from her laughing high. "Okay, of all the convoluted plans I know Dumbledore's woven, this has to take the gold. A sibling I don't have, not to mention that everyone grew up around stories of the girl and not the boy who lived."

The three had calmed down by the time the food trolley appeared, and the kindly woman smiled at the three girls. "Anything off the trolley dears?" she asked.

"Bottle of butterbeer, two cauldron cakes and a chocolate frog." Iris asked, receiving the treats and passing a galleon and a small handful of sickles and knuts after receiving the price to the woman. She'd begun nibbling on the frog while Susan was sipped from a bottle of her own butterbeer and Hannah was popping in an every flavor bean every so often with abandon.

"You have the weirdest luck with those beans." Susan commented as Iris cursed at her copy of the Dumbledore card and handed it to Hannah who pocketed it. "I swear, Magnus blessed you to always know what's in those boxes."

Shrugging, Hannah took another three and popped them into her mouth in quick succession. "Not my place to wonder why the spirit of foresight lets me have such good luck with the beans."

Chewing the remaining portion of her cake, Iris hummed appreciatively as the brown cake changed to taste like roast beef. "Can't complain, better luck than you have Susan."

The glass switched to a darkened tint as Iris pulled off her blouse and searched for her uniform blouse as the door opened. "Don't you know what a tinted door on the express means?" Susan exclaimed as Iris clutched her blouse to her chest.

Turning, Iris saw Draco Malfoy leering at her. Ordinarily, Iris would like to slap him senseless though in this case modesty prevailed. "The bloody hell you still staring at?" Iris shrieked.

Draco sneered but didn't answer, though his two companions were similarly staring at her. "You still staring at?" Iris asked, raising her wand. " _Ictus Iaculus!"_ she commanded, the stinging jinx stabbing into the three as they retreated, yelping in pain. "And don't come back, creeps!"

"My father will hear about this!" Draco roared as he and his two friends retreated, to the laughter of Iris and her friends.

* * *

After being greeted by the pair of red-haired boys that she'd met on the train, Fred and George, Iris hadn't found Hector though chalked it up to being dragged along by her . . . fake brother? She really had no idea how to consider this strange turn of events. "Alright. Ickle firsties, I'm Gred and this is my brother Forge."

"Wait. I'm Fred and he's George." The other twin said.

"We thought it best," the first began

"To tell you all that we mean no harm." The other finished. This was proving to be confusing, Iris thought as the twins ping-ponged their explanation of their pranks.

"So come to us if you're an unwilling participant," the one on the right said.

"And we'll sort everything out." His twin finished.

With a bow, the two twins left the room and Iris, Hannah and Susan were left to their chatting once more. "Well, that was definitely something." Iris said finally.

"The Weasley twins, you didn't think they were purebloods the way they carry themselves." Susan mused. "N-not that I have anything against them, of courses." She blurted out.

"I know, I know." Iris waved her off as Hannah went back to snoozing with her cheek against the window. "They seem like nice enough people."

"That they do." Susan said.

The train came to a stop a few minutes later. "Where's Hector gone? Haven't seen him since Potter showed up." Hanna asked, turning her head as the prefects herded the first years to the wide dirt path that led into the forest.

Flashes of white light appeared all along the column of first years as screaming first years and bellowing prefects fought unseen enemies. "What in Merlin's name is going on?" Susan asked, blanching as a spider the size of a large dog scuttled from the forest and a nearby prefect sprung into action.

" _Arania Exumai."_ The prefect shouted, a blast of white light sending the spider back into the forest to scuttle away. "Hogwarts has a spider problem, a few Acromantula in the forest."

Another blast of white light to the rear of the column. "More than a fe~ wait! Acromantula?" Susan exclaimed. "Why would Hogwarts keep that hidden? Hasn't the department of magical creatures been informed?"

The prefect shrugged. "Well, Acromantula are quite valuable. Their fangs sells for thirty galleons a pair, their eyes for fifty a jar, their venom was a hundred a vial and their silk goes for three hundred a bolt." Hannah noted.

"Trust the daughter of an apothecary to know the value of every single bit of an Acromantula off the top of her head." Iris grinned, hugging the girl in question while Hannah gave Iris a halfhearted glare as they reached the lone boathouse that sat at the edge of the lake, a copse of trees hiding all else from view before them.

* * *

The boats glided out onto the surface of the black lake with barely a ripple, the inlet that sheltered the docks also gave the entering year of students some time to build up suspense as they drifted along behind the head boat manned by the giant gamekeeper that had met the first years at the station.

Across from Iris and Susan, Hannah having been separated in the crush of students, a pair of boys were looking around excitedly as a bored-looking girl flipped idly through the pages of her book. "Hi. I'm Iris Granger, what's your name?" Iris asked to break the silence.

The girl looked up as if startled that someone had acknowledged her existence but gained a bored expression on seeing the rather plain robes that Iris was wearing. Iris did notice that Susan and many of the other noble families were wearing slightly more ornate robes. "Victoria Lestrange." She introduced but this announcement earned a hard look from both Susan and the boys. Victoria gave a sour expression.

"You're Mad-Dog Bella's daughter." One of the boys accused.

She gave a small nod. "Yes."

Iris threw them a look. People could be so stupid sometimes, she thought. "What are you reading?" she asked.

Blinking in surprise, Victoria opened and closed her mouth a few times as if attempting to register the fact that someone was still talking to her. "Sherlock Holmes." She said quietly, glancing away.

"That's a muggle book though, isn't it? Don't you purebloods hate muggles?" the other boy asked.

"Not exactly. I just enjoy reading books that don't depict muggles as filthy animals. That and it annoys my godfather to no end." she admitted. "Lord Malfoy." Victoria clarified after seeing the blank expressions on their faces.

"The blonde spawn's dad?" the first boy asked, to general laughter.

Victoria nodded, a twitch at the corner of her lip the only visible reaction. "The radical purists are the only ones who consider muggles and muggleborn lower class citizens. It just so happens they control around a tenth of the votes and a good number of the more reluctant members join them."

"Politics already?" Susan sighed.

"I didn't start it. You just pick it up since he's always ranting at home where he doesn't need to keep up his snotty, aloof pureblood attitude" She said rather glumly.

"You don't sound too happy about it." the second boy pointed out.

"Not everyone is like their parents." Iris rolled her eyes.

Victoria looked at Iris with a new appraising look, different from her mild indifference from a few minutes ago. "Indeed, miss Granger," Victoria said, "indeed."

The conversation quickly trailed off as the boats rounded the bend. The trees ended as the land sloped down into the lake and the twinkling stars had their spotlights stolen as a most entrancing sight unfolded before the first-year students.

A castle sat perched atop a hill overlooking the lake, with many turrets that stretched upwards and the many glittering windows glowing in the night. "Hogwarts." Iris breathed. The castle was dappled in shadow and reflected off the still face of the lake. It was grand, imposing, yet somehow Iris felt like she was coming home.

* * *

Well, I've gotten around to bringing them to Hogwarts.

If it wasn't obvious, Iris managed to get Amelia Bones, DMLE Head, as her magical guardian. There's a story behind it, but I'll save that for when it becomes more relevant. Meanwhile, I'm predicting this question already, so yes, Old Hector does in fact bring Iris and Hector to the magical world. They're going to be a part of it, so they'd better learn about stuff so they don't look like complete fools. Yes, Susan and Hannah are Iris's friends. It comes with Amelia Bones being Iris's guardian, she's introduced to some parts of wizarding politics early since she's the head of House Potter, and the temporary head while Iris isn't of age.

This is the official start of where Hogwarts year 1 starts. I hope to hear from all of you how everything is different since nobody supposedly knows about Iris's real identity. I'm excited to start writing. Hope to hear from you all on your theories about the events of year one so I can write a more . . . comprehensive year one.

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	8. Chapter 8

The boat thudded against the wood of the underground dock as the seventh year prefects alighted first, conjuring stairs and handrails for the students. Iris marveled at the small bit of magic as did many of the first years, though Iris noted the purebloods weren't impressed in the least. Shaking a cramp from her leg, she hopped a step as Susan followed behind her.

"This is so exciting." A familiar, pitchy cheerful tone sounded from Iris's left.

Clambering off a boat to her left, Iris watched a bemused Hector disembark off with Iris's supposed biological brother and his redhead friend as a chattering girl that Iris recognized from the wand shop. "Nora!" Iris greeted happily, the bubbly blonde turning and responding in kind with a bone-crushing hug. "Hey. Can't. Breathe."

"Oops, sorry." Nora said sheepishly. "Hey. Hey. This is Harry Potter. He's the Boy-Who-Lived." She blurted, turning to push Iris towards the messy-haired boy.

"Potter." Iris said evenly, awkwardly aware that the boy did look a lot like the photos of her biological father made him out to be, messy hair, brown eyes, smirk and all. He carried himself with a swagger, a confident smile and a jagged lightning bolt scar sat on his forehead much like Iris's. Something was definitely off, she thought, her own was vaguely lightning bolt shaped and not as prominent as Harry's. Was it fake, magical, or something else?

"Granger." Harry nodded as Hector grinned at the sight of the annoyed boy.

An older woman, who looked to be in her mid-fifties judging by her dark hair having a fair number of white hairs, although that could simply be chalked up to being around teenage witches and wizards with no control on magic, stepped to the first landing and gazed down severely at the assembled first years. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor McGonagall and I am your deputy headmistress, transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor house. Prefects, you will explain your houses as we pass the statues towards the great hall."

The children murmured their excitement as the eight older students led them up the first set of steps where a man in imposing plate armor and robes was carved into the wall. In one hand he held a sword and the other held a wand. "Godric Gryffindor." The prefect began. "Famous for being the house of the noble and brave. It is the house of chivalry and the honorable."

The other Gryffindor prefect took the introduction from here. "Gryffindor house is famous for producing the likes of Albus Dumbledore, our current headmaster, as well as the highest contributing class to enter the Auror corps and other branches of law enforcement."

Further up the stairs, a severe man in billowing robes carrying a tablet carved with runes and wielding a staff was on the next landing. "Salazar Slytherin. For generations, the house of Slytherin has commanded the respect of the wizarding world by entering into seats of power. Many of those in Slytherin have moved on to high positions in our ministry."

"Slytherin is known as the house of the cunning and ambitious and is falsely regarded as a house of dark witches and wizards." The other prefect, a young woman, continued. "Among our number are famous witches and wizards such as the universally known Merlin and Morgana."

Murmurs of surprise rose from many of the magical kids who'd likely been taught that Slytherins equated to evil. Ascending further, they came to a rather petite woman in flowing robes with a mischievous smile etched onto her face. In one hand she carried a small orb, the other held a tome under one arm and on her head was a carving of a tiara.

"Rowena Ravenclaw. Famous for her work in creating the wards of Hogwarts and some of the older buildings in magical Europe such as the Citadel, that is now used as the headquarters of the ICW." The prefect said, waving a hand at the woman in front of everyone. "Many of the enchantments within the castle were originally her designs and added to later on."

The prefect's partner smiled at the kids and continued his partner's line. "Ravenclaw House is known for its intelligence and curiosity. Many of Ravenclaw's graduates find work as researchers within the ministry or jobs in cursebreaking, Spellcrafting and other jobs that require high analytical skills. Most notably, the Gamp family has been known to be admitted to Ravenclaw more than any other house and are famous for their ancestor's laws of elemental transfiguration."

Lastly, as they approached the top, a rather matronly woman sat on a carved chair, smiling down at the students as they ascended. "Helga Hufflepuff. The mother of Hogwarts and its first headmistress following the rift between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin."

"Hufflepuff values loyalty and honesty, and represent a sort of balance between the other houses. We're known for taking in the students who don't seem to fit in any of the other houses, and we're generally the nicest among the houses."

This got good-natured jeers from the other prefects that McGonagall hushed as they ascended up towards the top of the stairs. "Hold on a moment, Hagrid will usher you all in when we're ready." McGonagall said, turning to enter the hall as the prefects blocked the view of the younger students.

Excited chatter broke from among the soon-to-be-firsties, to be replaced by screams as a hundred ghosts appeared from around them. They came from the walls, the floor and ceiling, gliding around them in a grand display as several of the prefects took to firing spells at a particular ghost who was carrying what looked to be a bucket with something loaded inside. "Back away, Peeves!" one of the prefects could be heard shouting.

The excitement quickly over as one of the spells upended the bucket of what appeared to be pellets a few meters from the first years, the newly identified Peeves stuck out his tongue before racing away, cackling. "Make sure to stay away from him," one of the prefects said.

"We're ready for you." McGonagall said, appearing from within the great hall.

* * *

The great hall was bright and cheery, though Iris could see the sadness from the teachers' eyes. With the math in her head, she considered the fact that her class could have easily been the smallest batch to ever enter Hogwarts since its inception. Only fifty new students; the class before her, as she'd been told, was sixty-three.

This drew attention to the disturbingly large number of empty seats. A number far, far more than would be normally reserved for the incoming class. Iris, who'd taken to learning the violin, had a distinct feeling that she knew the song she'd be using to practice a lot in the coming weeks. "It's so . . . empty." Iris mused.

Susan nodded, the euphoria of the trip gone slightly as the reality that was often missed by the muggleborns was painfully obvious to those versed in magical Britain's recent history. "That it is."

Stopping at the foot of the stairs leading to the raised teacher's table, a rather ragged hat sat upon a stool where McGonagall stood beside and before the first year students. A wide seam appeared and the hat appeared to be grinning.

It did what any sensible magical hat would do, bowed, and began to sing.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;"_

Iris couldn't help but wince at the terrible rhyming of loyal and toil, and was happy to see that Susan felt the same way and gave her a questioning, sour look as if trying to say, 'really?'

 _"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of with and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends."_

"There isn't a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin, or so they say." Victoria said glumly from beside Iris.

"The hat didn't say anything about their real personality traits, and in any event, it isn't a fair recruiting call for new Slytherins if they're just the 'slimy snakes'" Susan noted.

"Snakes aren't slimy." Iris replied matter-of-factly, to the hushed laughter of Susan and Victoria.

 _"So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands, though I have none_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The hat hopped by itself on the stool to bow to each of the four houses in turn as it received its applause in silence. "When I call your name," McGonagall began, "you will come forward. I will place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses."

Iris filed away the students as they were made to sit onto the chair. Hannah and Susan were predictably in Hufflepuff, those two were both inseparable and kind-hearted, she couldn't think of two more textbook 'puffs. Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst were the first Ravenclaws. Terry Boot was one of those boys that you'd see in a crowd once and forget about as soon as you looked away. He was plain enough, with curly brown hair and freckles, a pair of glasses sat on his nose.

Mandy Brocklehurst looked like she wasn't expecting to go into Ravenclaw, though the hat did take a few minutes discussing something with her. Maybe it was to do with the fact she was talking to the hat, she made out a few of the words though couldn't put it into context. A rather distracted looking girl named Lavender Brown was sorted into Gryffindor as the mountain of a girl named Millicent Bulstrode went directly to Slytherin after a few curt words with the hat.

Following her was a rather twitchy little girl with dark hair, Andrea Burke followed Millicent to Slytherin. Michael Corner joined Terry Boot at the Ravenclaw table as one of Malfoy's goons, Crabbe, was quickly sorted into Slytherin. Tracey Davis and Mauricius Dolohov followed Crabbe into Slytheirn, the little blonde sitting away from the rest of the Slytherins.

A girl nearly as tall as Millicent, Fay Dunbar, went to Gryffindor as Kevin Entwhistle joined his fellows in Ravenclaw. Justin Finch-Fletchley was sorted into Hufflepuff after a lengthy silence that some at the tables were calling a hatstall. Seamus Finnegan, a boy with a look that screamed 'never leave him alone with flammable objects' was sorted into Gryffindor. A boy named Gabriel Gamp joined the Ravenclaw table as Daphne Greengrass glided, seriously, who did that anymore? Iris thought, towards the Slytherin table and sat beside Tracey Davis.

Soon, Hector was called up and another six minutes passed until the hat announced her brother as a Gryffindor. Typical and just as Iris and Hector had expected. "Iris Granger." McGonagall called.

Iris smiled as her name was called and she hurried towards the seat. ' _Iris Granger. Who are you really?'_ a voice in her head asked.

"I think you know who I am, mister hat." Iris replied, the hat laughing in response.

 _'Come now, you don't expect me to believe that a muggleborn has such excellent occulumentic shields, do you?'_ the hat responded. _'The structure seems rather uninspired, but you do seem the logical type after all.'_

"A girl must have her secrets," Iris laughed.

The hat twitched and she found a pressure at the back of her mind, and immediately, the thought of the twinkly-eyed meddler came to the forefront of her mind. _'Headmaster, don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?'_ the hat asked, though the implied threat was understood as the mental probe withdrew. _'Strange, the headmaster doesn't usually take interest in students' sortings.'_

"Two minutes, we're a long way from a hatstall." Iris said.

 _'Now you're just trying to avoid my questions. What does the headmaster want with you, miss Granger?'_

"Who knows what he thinks? A lot of people say he's going senile in his age."

 _'You're a fiery one, would you mind letting me in? I'll only take a peek into your head. You have my word; no memories you don't want to dredge up. I swear it on my existence.'_

Iris mulled this over, though she was aware the other students were whispering. Had she really hit the three-minute mark already? The hat did have a confidentiality contract between student and . . . enchanted hat. "Alright. But any funny business and you are scrap."

 _'Feisty little one, aren't you?'_ the hat replied somewhat snidely. _'Oh my, how difficult. Your mind is labyrinth girl, you've quite the organized mind.'_

"I'll take that as a compliment." Iris agreed.

 _'Ah, there it is. You're strong-willed, but there's something that's left a seed of doubt in your heart. You're cunning and ambitious. You'd do so well in Slytherin.'_

"Perhaps, but I'm not feeling particularly safe knowing a lot of the radicals get sorted into Slytherin, if you catch my meaning." Iris admitted.

 _'Too true, so Slytherin may be out for you little one. Oh, you're not particularly fair and you do enjoy taking advantage of rules. Are you sure you don't want to be a Slytherin? You have the makings of a powerful dark lady, if you were so inclined.'_

"Like you-know-who?"

 _'No, I don't know who, but I do know that Tom Riddle was a powerful wizard in his own right before he took the mantle of Voldemort.'_

"Riddle doesn't sound like a pureblood name," Iris observed.

 _'Hmm, who can say.'_ The hat said, a sort of laughing came from it as Iris realized that the whole school was staring. A glance at the clock revealed they'd been chatting for a little under eight minutes. _'But I really must be getting back to sorting you, think more about it, we can talk another time.'_

"Go right ahead." Iris offered a memory. "By the way, that toil-loyal rhyme was terrible."

 _'It's all in the pronunciation,'_ The hat argued, _'oh, your mind really is such a wonderful thing. Too willing for underhand methods for Godric's house, too cunning for Helga and you don't feel safe in Slytherin's abode. Might as well. Better be._ '

"RAVENCLAW." The hat announced.

* * *

At the Ravenclaw table, Iris decided to strike up a conversation with Mandy Brocklehurst. "Hello, I'm Iris Granger," she smiled, extending a hand that Mandy took.

"Mandy Brocklehurst, a pleasure," Mandy replied. "Muggleborn?" she asked, as Iris looked around excitably.

"Half-blood. I think. We have wizards on my dad's side of the family, but I don't think my parents were magical. They're both dentists, see. They deal with teeth." Iris said.

"Muggle teeth healers? I hear they're quite scary." Mandy admitted.

"Trust me, people love to exaggerate." Iris said, greeting a surprised-looking Victoria Lestrange who sat down beside her. "Really? Ravenclaw?" she asked.

Victoria, who looked decidedly greener, nodded. "The hat said I'd do well in Slytherin, but I told it I didn't want to be anywhere near where my mum used to stay." She said quietly, wringing her hands together. "Oh, but lord Malfoy is going to be so cross with the hat's decision. Poor Dobby."

"Dobby?" Iris and Mandy asked, thinking it was a curious name to name . . . anything really.

"The house elf," Victoria supplied, "lord Malfoy isn't known for his kindness."

"That's terrible. I thought that sort of stuff only happened in books or movies." Iris confessed.

"Movies?" Mandy asked.

"Moving pictures with sound." Iris supplied. "Muggles use it for entertainment. Don't magical families have anything similar?"

"We have the wireless," Victoria supplied.

"And books, but after the mess of You-Know-Who, a lot of the old records were lost, so they had to start from scratch. We have some of the classics mind you." Mandy said. Huh, Iris thought, Old Hector never mentioned any of this.

"Like fairy tales? Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast?"

"Not in the wizarding world, though we do have some alternate versions of most of King Arthur's stories. Merlin attended Hogwarts you know." Victoria corrected.

"So what books did you grow up reading?" Iris asked, partially curious, partially wondering what the children in the wizarding world would have read at her age.

Both girls looked thoughtful for a moment before Victoria began her count. "Well, there's the Tales of Beadle the Bard. The Warlock's Hairy Heart, the Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump." Iris snorted at that one.

"Though a lot of people did read that new series once they started printing it. All about the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter. I mean, they're great fiction. He's here now, there, he's just been sorted." Mandy said.

True to her word, Harry Potter, or whoever he was, had just stepped down from the seat after a roared 'Gryffindor' and the red-haired twins chanting "we got Potter" repeatedly. The . . . "Wait, he's famous? That boy's a git."

"He killed you-know-who. He's got this weird scar; they say it's magic."

Iris couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You what?"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat at the great hall, content that everything was falling into place. Quirrel had encountered the wraith as expected, his boy-who-lived had entered Gryffindor as he'd believed he would. The only thing that was off was the other child, the girl. Iris Potter, why could things never be simple with her.

He attempted to send another probe of his legilimency at the girl, but was confounded once more by the impenetrable wall around her psyche. No child of her age should have that much skill in the mind arts. Though she did shake her head and rub her temple, it meant she did feel it. He withdrew as the last boy, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Tom Riddle's old house. It had been many years since he'd last been seen and hopefully, he'd remain in hiding.

He was drawn from his thoughts as his deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, cleared her throat and he stood. "Welcome one and all, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we allow ourselves to become too befuddled by our excellent feast, I have a few notices that cannot wait for a later date."

Dumbledore swept his gaze over his students, so many new faces, just waiting to be given insight into the greater good that drove him and that should drive all the wizarding world. "We have several new changes in staffing this year. I am pleased to inform you that Cuthbert Binns has elected to move on in his afterlife affairs and has chosen to assist Madame Pince by haunting the library."

Cheers were heard from all around the hall, Dumbledore could sympathize somewhat, he'd had the dubious pleasure of spending two years under Cuthbert Binns many, many years ago and he could safely say that it required a special sort of masochist to want to sit through seven years of lectures. How neither Phineas nor Armando had bothered to change Binns when he'd died was beyond him. "Yes, yes. We are delighted to have Remus Lupin, a graduate of Hogwarts, come in and take over. I hope you all listen to him."

Dumbledore could see Harry's eyes light up at the mention of Remus Lupin, though he noted that Iris's eyes darkened in their countenance. Curious. She knew of her family's friend, and yet she showed no true reaction over one of her real father's friends within walking distance. "We would also like to take this moment to bid a fond farewell to August Grubbly-Plank, who has opted to take a position as consultant in the department of magical creatures. I have the distinct pleasure to introduce another new member of our staff, join me in welcoming our recent alumnus and your new Care of Magical Creatures professor, Charlus Weasley."

This earned a standing ovation from the Gryffindor table, for Charlie Weasley had only graduated the previous year, and though Charlus and he had never seen eye-to-eye, he was only too happy to take the opportunity to teach at Hogwarts. Dumbledore allowed this to settle down before continuing further.

"Due to last year's fiendfyre incident, professor Hadrian Montressor has decided to resign, though we are happy to introduce Quirinus Quirrel, the long-time Muggle Studies professor, who's agreed to take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I hope you all wish him the best of luck."

"Finally, with Quirinus's transfer to the Defense position, I'd like to welcome miss Charity Burbage, who has elected to share her knowledge as our new Muggle Studies professor." Dumbledore continued, before he looked over the hall. The students were hungry, now was as good a time as any. "More on that later, for now, let the feast begin." He clapped, the food appearing on the table and the audible gasp from the students had them digging in as Albus returned to his seat.

Things were looking up for now, but something always happened at Hogwarts, no matter the precautions he took. With a resigned sigh, he'd figure out the enigma of the Potter girl. He'd worked too long to let her sabotage anything now. Though, he supposed, changing her name was at least a sign that she wasn't interested in the Potter legacy. He accepted a bowl from Minerva and began eating.

* * *

Greetings my loyal readers and thank you to those who reviewed the story, it's what helps me write knowing you all enjoy the story. As to the mention of Petra Pettigrew, no it's not a typo but that really isn't important just yet. Anyway, we've gotten a small glimpse at Dumbledore's mind, a brief introduction to the houses and the sorting itself and some other fun facts that has poor Iris confused, just as planned for Dumbledore. No there isn't too much bashing, I try to avoid that, no matter how much I hate some characters *glares at Ron*.

Sorry this chapter's a bit late, life interrupted and my birthday nearly burned down the house. It wasn't my fault, I swear. Apparently people think it's a good idea to plug an extension cable to an extension cable and just plug everything willy-nilly, ugh, but family what are you going to do, right? At least the computer survived this one, thank Merlin for small favors. Oh and if any of you are wondering why the rating's dropped to T, fear not. I just went over the story's notes for the foreseeable future and found that the story really is more suited to Teen as there isn't really anything to merit a full-blown warning sign. Rest assured that if anything does change, such as when the muse decides on a particularly . . . inappropriate scene (Take that as you may), I'll put up a warning or post a separate one-shot, depending on what I feel at the time.

Mischief Managed,

Arilia.


	9. Chapter 9

"Let the feast begin." Dumbledore called and he clapped his hands.

Iris felt a shiver of magic in the air as invisible shapes carried food onto the tables from below. She reached out to touch one of the flickering shapes, but it popped away a second later and the food in its place.

"Iris, what's wrong?" Mandy asked, looking curiously at the girl who still had her hand outstretched.

Not knowing how to reply, Iris simply giggled. "Thought I saw something serving the food, I'm probably just tired from the trip," she explained. "Potatoes?" she asked, more to distract her latest acquaintance than anything else.

Blinking, Mandy accepted the starchy offering and proceeded to serve herself. Iris, meanwhile, took to marveling at the shapes that flittered around unseen and just out of reach. "Miss Granger, you look like you've seen a ghost, what are you looking at?" Victoria asked, tilting her head to look.

"Uhh, that boy over at the Hufflepuff table." Iris blurted suddenly, causing several of the nearby students to turn to where Iris had pointed out.

A rather handsome young boy, probably in his third or fourth year, had wondered at the attention before turning back to his conversation. "Ooh, someone's got a crush on Diggory." A second year girl tittered.

Iris felt she would have rather taken people thinking her strange seeing invisible things than people thinking she fancied some boy in Hufflepuff. "Chang's not going to like that." Another agreed.

"Who now?" Iris asked.

"Cho Chang." One of the second years said matter-of-factly. "She's the queen bee of Ravenclaw, really bossy for a third year. Everyone knows she fancies Cedric."

"Oh," was all Iris could say before flushing. "I-we-well it's not that I'm interested or anything~"

"Or anything? She really isn't going to like that." Another tittered.

Iris fumed. "Stop putting words in my mouth, I thought you'd all be a bit more mature about this."

"Just looking out for a firstie, last girl that tried to confess to Diggory ended up hexed by Chang and her clique. Nobody got to telling the teachers, but it's sort of our worst open secret." Another girl said, making Iris blanch. She really didn't need that kind of attention on her first day.

"No, no. You've got it all wrong. I mean . . . sure he's cute, but really, what do I know about him?"

"Exactly. You don't know anything. So back off, ginger." A scathing remark from across the table from a girl who was now glaring at Iris.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I don't want any trouble, really." Iris said, holding up her hands in surrender, flinching as a low-powered stinging jinx struck her leg. "Ouch. What was that for?"

"What was what for?" Victoria asked, puzzled.

"You, I, ugh, never mind." Iris grumbled, now content to stabling a piece of roast with her fork. "Great job, first day and you're already making friends. Mum and dad will be so happy," she drawled to herself as she began eating.

It irritated her, every few minutes a stinging jinx would connect with unerring accuracy at the same spot her leg was, no matter how much she shifted around. She knew, however, without a doubt that it was this Chang girl and whoever else were in her group. Making enemies on the first day, figures something like this was going to happen, Iris thought glumly.

Once the food cleared away, Iris found herself face-to-face with mountains of ice cream, fortresses of fudge and dozens of cakes. "Mum and dad are going to kill me." Iris sighed, looking over to the Gryffindor table where Hector caught her eye and he grinned.

* * *

Iris found herself mulling over the appointment of Remus Lupin more than anything. The werewolf, not that she had a problem with them, was one of Dumbledore's yes men. Was there a particular reason he'd gotten the werewolf a job at Hogwarts?

It could easily have been for no reason, the man had left her with her pig of an uncle at the age of one in November in nothing but a blanket, who's to say he forgot that werewolves weren't legally allowed to hold a major academic position where minors were involved. She'd have to ask her aunt Amelia during the holidays about that one.

The nagging little voice in her mind said otherwise, he was trying to use the werewolf to get to her or whoever Harry Potter was, she mused as she traced the threads of magic that hung heavy in the air of Hogwarts. "First years, keep up please." The fourth year prefect, a rather willowy girl, said. Iris noticed the floor of Hogwarts ran with just as much energy as the walls and paintings, like rivers that flowed into one another. "I'm Sadie Carter and I'll be sort of your big sister for your first year at Hogwarts," she said brightly.

The other prefect, a tall, lanky boy with a pair of large glasses smiled down at them. "I'm Will Cheshire, also your prefect for this year. We'll try our best to show you the ins and outs of Hogwarts in your first few days here."

"Enough of the history lessons for now, you two. Our first years must be tired from the journey," a small, but rather cheerful looking man chided the two. "We'll give them enough time to see Hogwarts before classes begin in three days, so I'm sure you'll have enough time to look around. Off to bed with you all." The man said, gesturing for them to move along.

"Of course, professor," Will said, "Come along everyone."

Iris twisted her head to look back as countless paintings and moving staircases filled the beating heart of Hogwarts. The staircases pulsed and thrummed with barely-contained power as they ascended. A quick glance at the paintings showed they were all connected like a highway with those around them. Forget being imposing, Iris thought, Hogwarts was a marvel of magical engineering.

"Keep an eye on the staircases everyone and step lively, this is the Janus staircase. There's a cheat sheet when we get to the common room, but this is one of the more temperamental staircases." Sadie called as they were shepherded across the spiraling staircase.

Iris noticed it just before Will could take a step onto the shimmering barrier on the floor much like the platform's barrier. "Wait!" she cried as his foot stepped through solid stone and Iris dashed forward, hooking a leg on one of the rails as she grabbed Will's wrists on what she'd later learn was a Harper Reverse turn.

"Bloody hell." Will cursed, looking up as Iris grimaced at the older boy's weight.

"You're heavy." Iris grunted as Sadie rushed up, levitating Will from the gap.

"Thanks kid, I owe you one." Will said hoarsely. "Sorry Dee, forgot about the vanishing landing there."

Sadie, or rather Dee as Iris would call her later on, frowned and laughed weakly. "Not a very good show to our firsties here, but we would have to point those out sooner or later. Ravenclaw tower is one of the more eccentric areas of Hogwarts, so we teach the Ravenclaw firsties a few spells to help them navigate the school."

"I, on the other hand, forgot to use them and nearly ended up in the hospital wing." Will said, earning a muttered 'prat' from Sadie and a smack to the back of his head.

The same tiny professor that had greeted them on their way out of the great hall approached. "Five points to Ravenclaw. Good catch, miss Granger." The tiny man said, looking quite intrigued at the little incident.

"Thank you, sir."

"Hello, professor Flitwick." Will said.

"I'd ask that you be more careful mister Scarlet, it's awfully hard to find good prefects among my house." He chuckled. _"Reparante Agyrem"_ he said, and Iris's eyes widened as the threads of magic wove together and covered the hole, leaving it whole once more. "Move along. Miss Carter, please lead the way."

"Of course, professor." She said, glaring at Will. "First years, this way please and follow me."

* * *

Severus Snape thought himself a calm man, but the empty bottle of firewhiskey before him was testament to his foolishness. There was always time for a good brood, he mused, turning a sour look towards the door as the wards informed him of Dumbledore's request to gain entry. "Enter." Severus spoke.

Walking into the room, in painfully bright robes of magenta and silver stars, Dumbledore took on a hard expression at the sight of the bottle of firewhiskey. "So soon, Severus? Classes haven't even begun yet."

"You know full well that those little dunderheads are not yet my concern." He spoke quietly, running a hand through his greasy hair. "You knew. Damnit you bastard, you knew."

"Naturally. However, for the sake of our conversation, what is it do you think I know?" Dumbledore responded, a hint of amusement at the rise he was receiving from his potions master.

"You know, that girl. It's her, isn't it? Why does she have to look exactly like her?"

"I do not believe that Jeanne Granger is a witch, however her children seem exceptionally powerful." Dumbledore answered easily.

Snape scowled, glaring now at Dumbledore. "Don't lie to me headmaster, I was not born yesterday. We both know that your little misinformation campaign may have fooled the public into this Harry Potter, but this so-called boy-who-lived is nothing more than a farce."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I'd appreciate, Severus, if you don't pry too much into this. If Voldemort were to rise again, you know we have much to fear."

"You. You have much to fear. I am your double agent, remember?" Severus sneered as Dumbledore retreated from the room. "You say you are on the side of the light, but tell me this, Dumbledore. Where do your loyalties truly lie?"

"Where they always have." Dumbledore replied cryptically. "I thought you had seen the light, that's why you joined me."

Snape sent a hard glare at Dumbledore at this. Truly, he thought, there was nothing he'd like more than to send the senile old man off the roof of the astronomy tower. "Not by choice."

Shaking his head, Severus felt himself stumble to the little box he kept hidden behind his bed. With a silent swipe of his hand, the box fell open and he reached for the lone photo that remained. It was a picture, unmoving and faded, taken by a muggle photographer years and years ago.

"What am I supposed to do, my flower?" Snape murmured, running a finger along the photo, drinking in the smiling girl with fiery red hair and eyes of the clearest green.

The Ravenclaw common room reminded Iris of what her ideal home would probably look like. The main area was divided into three areas at the base of one of the larger towers, a spiraling room with numerous bookshelves that contained hundreds of volumes stacked towards the ceiling. Large, plush cushions and couches cluttered the central portion of the room where several older students were curled up on and reading various tomes.

The new Ravenclaw students followed Sadie towards the center as she shooed the older students away. "Alright kids, take a seat," she said cheerfully.

A round of sighs rose from the first years as they sat down. "Bloody hell, why is our common room so high up?" one boy complained.

"We don't have it so bad, I hear the Gryffindors are two floors above us." Mandy replied. "I'll never look at staircases the same way again, how do you remember where all the false staircases are?" she asked.

"I was about to get to that." Sadie said, handing out several sheets of paper to the first years. "These," she said, holding up a sheet of her own, "while normally maps are impossible to take because Hogwarts shifts about because of all the ambient magic and whatnot, are guides to the portions of the castle that remained largely unchanged for years."

"You're just giving these to us first years?" Iris asked, looking at the paper she was given, a rather plain diagram of several floors of Hogwarts, mostly the main staircase and the secondary staircase near Ravenclaw tower. "Aren't you afraid we'll start wandering around?"

"Normally yes, but the eagle knows not to let students out after curfew." Sadie said, nodding towards the door. "Why, Iris, can I call you Iris? Great. I might have accused you of being a lion with that statement."

Iris flushed slightly. "It was an honest question."

"I know, I know, don't get your knickers in a twist kid." Sadie joked as the other first years laughed at Iris's expense.

"Do the other houses have anything similar?" Victoria asked.

Will shrugged. "Don't think anyone's had the idea of attempting to map out the school apart from some rumors of a group of Gryffindors some years ago."

"How does that work?" "What's with the school?" "Is it taboo to make actual maps?" "How do you know which corridors are forbidden?" question after question erupted from the other students as the night wore on.

"That about sums it up." Sadie sighed, grinning all the while. "I'll admit, you'll all do fine as 'claws if you keep up with that curiosity. Just remember, any problems with academics, approach a prefect, we'll direct you to tutors."

The group of first years quickly dispersed after the impromptu welcoming and tour. "Alright girls, this is the way to the girls' dorms. You've got a spiral staircase with six landings. Here on this floor are the first year rooms, and you'll find your things waiting for you in the rooms. Below us are the dorms for second through fourth years and fifth through seventh above us." Sadie said.

Each of the rooms had apparently been randomly selected as Galadriel hooted happily as she perched on what was quite clearly Iris's bed. The name plaque on the door read 'First years, Iris Granger and Victoria Lestrange'. "Wow, this is amazing." Iris breathed.

The room itself was rather small, but cozy at the same time. Two beds sat inside alcoves on either side of the room while a pair of wooden desks stood flush against the wall near each bed. A large window that opened out onto the great lake had cushions on the windowsill and a bookshelf that was currently empty stood against another wall.

A quick check of each rooms confirmed that they were all rather similar, though the room shared by a rather small girl of oriental origin who introduced herself as Sue Li and Mandy Brocklehurst had a window looking out over a courtyard and the remaining pair of Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin took another room, though their view was that of another tower.

"I could definitely get used to this." Victoria said, sitting down on the bed opposite the one that had Iris's trunk in front of it.

Humming thoughtfully, Iris sighed. "What did I do to make that Chang girl hate me so much?" she asked.

"Maybe she sees you as competition. That girl at the table did say that she fancied the Diggory boy. Maybe she's just conflicted and is taking it out on you."

Sighing, Iris went to the bathroom to change.

The bathroom wasn't the most opulent, but it was the most functional. Dumping her nightgown into one of the bins, she headed into one of the showers and shucked off her clothes. There must have been some sort of charm on the stone floor since her feet didn't slide when she walked into the wet stall.

Squirting the shampoo into her hands, she worked up a lather and began massaging it into her scalp as she mused. Hogwarts really was a magical place, even in the bathroom she felt the ambient magic as something safe.

Showering for her was always rather therapeutic, Iris found herself reflecting as she often did while the warm water enveloped her. "I'm not going to let Chang ruin Hogwarts for me."

Stepping out of the shower, Iris toweled off only to find out that her clothes, both those she wore on the train and her night clothes, were missing. "You've got to be joking. That's so immature" Iris grumbled.

Taking out her wand, which had thankfully been stashed under her towel, she cast a drying charm on her hair, quite beyond caring about a little frizz when her clothes were going missing.

Iris hadn't really done anything to Chang to get her so upset. It just seemed the girl was just that vindictive and petty to not forgive a first year rather understandable crush however false it was in reality. "If it's a war she wants, it's a war she'll get."

* * *

Jeanne Granger sat at the couch, sipping a mug of coffee after a particularly late night. The house was quiet, almost forlorn without the two bundles of energy she had to look out for. "Maybe it's time for that third child, I'll talk to Dan about it sometime." She mused.

A tap at the window broke her train of thought and two rather soaked owls were perched on the windowsill. "Oh, Tardis and Galadriel, the two sent letters already," she said to nobody in particular, opening the window to let the poor owls in.

A bowl of water and some toasted bread later, the two owls were roosting happily on one of the chairs while Jeanne opened the letters, the first in Iris's careful script.

 _Dear mum and dad,_

 _Life at Hogwarts has gotten off to a rough start, there's this crazy chit who thinks I've taken fancy to her crush. I really have no idea what I'm supposed to do at this point. Oh well, it doesn't really matter, I know people like her, she'll get bored eventually. If she doesn't, well that'll be for another time._

 _Contrary to what Grandpa Hector predicted, I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. I had an interesting conversation with a talking hat. No, dad, I'm not crazy. Yes, mom, I'm perfectly happy being in Ravenclaw even if that makes me out to be a total bookworm which we all know I'm not. Hector did get sorted into Gryffindor though, which is sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy considering he wouldn't shut up about it before._

 _Sarcasm aside, Hogwarts is amazing, I know neither of you will ever understand magic but maybe Hector and I could teach you to brew potions or something. We'll see how everything goes at any rate._

 _You won't believe this, there's this boy in my year named, get this, Harry Potter. He looks exactly like the pictures of my father did, it's creepy. I have no idea who he really is, but if you could ask Grandpa Hector to dig up some information about this so-called brother I apparently have, I'd appreciate it._

 _Lastly, I picked up some interesting news from the talking hat I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, apparently you-know-who's real name is Tom Riddle. I don't think it's a wizard's name because the name didn't appear in any of my lessons with Grandpa Hector, and yes after reciting all those names I'm supposed to remember, I think I'd remember someone named Riddle._

 _Send me a letter back with Galadriel whenever you find some time, I love you both and miss you already._

 _Love,_

 _Iris_

Frowning at the first bit but happy that her daughter was at least safe, Jeanne refolded the letter and proceeded to open the second, this time from Hector and in his rather untidy scrawl, in stark contrast to Iris.

 _Hello mom and dad,_

 _Hector here, well obviously I suppose. Where to start. I got sorted into Gryffindor like I knew I would and Iris went to Ravenclaw. The hat said something about needing me somewhere else. Oh right, our sorting, that thing we do to get sorted into the houses, was a hat that read our minds, how weird is that?_

 _Anyway, a few things to report on my end, just made some friends. That girl, Nora Longbottom, is in Gryffindor too. That and Iris's brother. I didn't know she had a brother, why'd you reckon she never told us? It's weird though, he says he grew up with "his family" which is impossible, because Iris's real parents are dead. It's really confusing._

 _Miss you both, can't wait to get back for the holidays but also excited to start Hogwarts._

 _See you next letter,_

 _Hector._

This bit of news honestly confused Jeanne, there really was no mention in the years that Iris had lived with the Grangers of any siblings. The mystery of this Harry Potter was definitely confusing. She'd have to talk to her father-in-law about it in the morning.

Folding the second letter, she rose and walked up the steps to her room. Maybe Daniel could help her take her mind off things.

* * *

Aaaaaaand sorry for the late post,

Damned internet service went down for the past week or so, couldn't get anything done so there's that. Absolutely hate the fact the maintenance teams were so flippant about the break, if I could life anything heavier than a hundred pounds maybe I could have done something about it, but alas have to hate genes for granting me the amazing height of 5'3, yay.

Self-loathing at my being vertically challenged aside, I've finished the latest chapter, though when I'll get internet again is beyond me, copying everything onto my phone to type it onto browser is beyond annoying, but I had a schedule to attempt to keep. Ah well, hindsight and all. Massively impractical yet oddly theraputic.

Anyway, hope you all enjoy this latest update, next up some classes and for now, I'm not quite sure how Snape's going to behave around Iris, thoughts?

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	10. Chapter 10

From the first moment that Severus Snape walked or more appropriately swept into the room, Iris could feel the hatred radiating off him. His dark hair greased back, his nose extra hooked and his generally tall, dark and dangerous air gave her the impression of a bat. "Welcome," he said, not sounding particularly happy about being here. "I am Severus Snape, and you will all address me as sir or professor Snape. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," or "Yes, professor," filtered from around the class and Iris distinctly saw his cold eyes roll at the mixed group of students.

"There will be little to no wand waving and only the most precise of incantations within this class. If you aren't all dunderheads as I'm usually stuck with teaching, then I can assure you I will be able to teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." He began, his voice carrying despite the whisper with which it was said.

Iris held her breath, there was something about this man that both fascinated and terrified her. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death. However, perhaps some of you are so clueless as to simply stare at me as I speak and not copy something down. Miss Granger, do I have something on my face?"

That snapped Iris from her reverie. "N-no sir, I was only curious sir."

"Curious about what, girl?" Snape asked.

"Di-well that's, w-what charm do you use on your cloak to make it so . . . err . . . billowy."

Snape blinked once. "Five points from Ravenclaw."

"Oh. Sorry sir, I won't disrupt class again." Iris said meekly as the Gryffindor half of the classroom, something that Iris did protest because from what other students were saying, Gryffindor had a track record of . . . accidents.

"Quite. Ah. Mister Potter, our new celebrity." Snape turned, focusing on the Gryffindor half of the room.

"Yes."

The entire class went silent as Snape once more glided across the room. "What do I get then, Potter if I add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood."

"A potion." The entire class gawked at this, nobody ever talked to Snape like that, unless that person had a death wish.

"Oh? Let's try again then. Mister Potter, where would you look if I asked you to get me a bezoar?"

"The cupboard or an apothecary I expect."

Snape visibly sneered. "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"The spelling, sir." That time, Iris facepalmed, the sound rather loud in the silence of the room and anybody else could hear the bubbling of a faraway cauldron or the clink of something within a jar or Nora vibrating away in her seat.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your disrespect, Potter." Snape scowled before sweeping back to the front of the room. "Would anyone like to attempt to answer these questions?"

Iris alone raised her hand, before attempting to withdraw it as her mind whirred looking for answers. The second and third were obvious, but the first, he could have phrased the question differently, but it reminded her of when she tried to memorize the language of flowers after reading a few romance novels that used them within the plot.

"Go on."

"Sir, you'd find a bezoar in the lining of a goat's stomach or my pocket." She said, not really knowing why exactly she tacked on that last part before covering her mouth as Snape blinked.

"You have a bezoar on you?"

"Y-yes sir. With all due respect, this was the first time many of us will touch a cauldron or the ingredients. I thought it would be safer to have an antidote with me."

"Five points to Ravenclaw for your foresight. Continue."

"Uh. Well, is there a difference to Monkshood and Wolfsbane sir? They're the same plant."

"Yes. While they're the same plant, Monkshood refers to the flower and Wolfsbane the leaf. It also goes by the name of Aconite for the root."

Iris scribbled that part down, the book didn't mention that. "As to the first question, I'm sure that's not in our textbook sir, but isn't that potion the draught of living death sir?"

"If it wasn't in the book, how do you know that?"

Blushing, Iris muttered. "Extracurricular reading, sir."

"Quite. Then do you have any other questions before we begin?"

"Yes sir. I was wondering what other mundane flowers are used in brewing potions, for example the white hyacinth is used in medicinal potions." That got a response from Snape, as he visibly whitened.

"The purple variant is another medicinal plant. Like the Asphodel flower and Gardenia, both of which are used in the dreamless sleep draught." Snape responded.

Iris nodded. "Thank you sir, I don't have any more questions."

"See me after class." Snape said as he returned to the blackboard. "The potion to cure boils is the simplest potion to brew, simply follow the instructions and there should be no issues. You have the remainder of the class."

The potion was relatively simple, one of the few potions that Old Hector had allowed her to brew with her brother. Dicing the roots of the Icefloe, Iris hummed to herself as she cleaned the board and prepared the remaining ingredients. To her, potions and brewing was much like cooking, something that she loved despite her formative years learning to cook and not actually being able to eat any of it.

It was therapeutic, she thought as she measured out a half-cup of the glinting beetle eyes and crushed them before adding the resulting mush to the potion that was maintaining the bluish-red hue described in the book. "Weasley, take the cauldron off the heat first!" Iris heard Hector shout in fear as she heard the telltale scraping sound of quills scratching the soft pewter.

Without really thinking, Iris spun around and took out her wand. "Protego!" she shouted at the same time as Snape, preventing the boiling mixture from harming a majority of the class, though Potter and Weasley were among those affected.

Massive boils appeared on the affected students and Snape scowled, rounding on the Gryffindor in question. "Weasley! I suppose you added the quills before taking the cauldron off the fire. Can you not read simple instructions! Five points from Gryffindor."

"But sir!" Potter began to protest.

"No buts, thought that if Weasley made a fool of himself would make you look better. Not here. Five points from Gryffindor."

"Sir!"

"Don't test me, Potter. Be thankful it isn't more, those affected will be treated by the other students' work if I find them adequate, now sit down!" Snape snapped.

Hector put a hand on Potter's shoulder. "Mate, it isn't worth it."

A few minutes was all that was needed as Iris raised her hand to signal she was done as Snape swept over. "Fair work, Granger. Granger, come here." He said. "We'll see if this works." Snape pulled a small ladle from his robes and produced a small glass. "Drink."

Hector took a glance at Iris and drank the liquid in one gulp. He coughed. "Minty." He commented.

"Minty?" Snape scowled. "Granger, what did you do to the potion?"

"I-I was reading ahead sir, the beetle eyes can be substituted to half degree with dittany and Icefloe root. It was mentioned in one of the later chapters and I thought it would be a good experiment."

"Fair work and at least one of you is reading ahead. Three points to Ravenclaw. Everyone who's been affected by Weasley's potion disaster, take a single dose then head to the infirmary."

The few that were still affected gratefully took a dose, though Harry insisted on using his own, earning a few new boils and a detention for using an untested potion.

Iris sat at one of the stations as the class left. "Granger, that was an inspired use of Icefloe." Snape said.

"Thank you, sir."

"So why did you lie and say that it was in the book?"

Blushing, Iris looked down. "I'm sorry, sir. It was . . . I suppose you could say instinctive."

"I only knew one other person who attempted the same when she wrote down a reaction table. Instinctive. You really are your mother's daughter."

Iris froze, there was no way he could know her real identity. "S-sir, I think you might have the wrong idea. I'm muggleborn."

Shaking his head, Snape looked at her with something between amusement and longing. "We can agree not to lie to one another. So much like her, she was a terrible liar as well. Lily Evans, you look so much like her. I was . . . close with her before I did something stupid."

Shaking her head, Iris looked confused. "You knew her?"

"She was my best friend. For many years my only friend." Snape said.

Iris shifted her feet. This was not comfortable ground for her, what with her mother's journal painting Snape as something of her shadow and after their falling out remained estranged to the end of her days. "Where are you going with this, sir?"

"Just a word of advice. Do not trust Albus Dumbledore."

"I already know that, sir."

Severus Snape turned to begin clearing away the remains of potion ingredients before straightening, a headache coming to him. "Iris . . . Lily always said if she had a daughter that would be her name. But . . . she gave birth to a boy." He muttered to himself. He had no idea who this girl was, Severus realized. "Dumbledore . . ."

"Severus." Snape heard the old man say behind him.

Turning, Severus Snape saw the tip of a wand in his face and a flash of white light.

* * *

Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw house, was mystified when the girl named Iris Granger entered the room. It was as if he'd gone back in time, as Lily Evans walked into the room. He gave a little cough and sprung up the stack of books. Though the more he thought about it . . .

Waving his wand, the half-goblin professor transfigured a set of stairs to lead up to the podium. "Welcome. Welcome everyone to your first year at Hogwarts. I am Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw house and charms master of Hogwarts. Today, we'll be doing a few rather fun charms that you might already know, on the first few pages of chapter one. But first, is everyone here present." He said, running through the list of names.

"Ah, where would mister Potter and mister Weasley be?"

"Hospital wing, potions accident." One of the Gryffindors piped up.

"Now, we're all going to learn a little more about magic. What is the unit of measure we use for magic?"

Several students raised their hands. "Yes, miss Longbottom?"

"The mana, sir." Nora said.

Flitwick seemed happy that students could answer the questions, it was already shaping up to be a pleasant year. "Correct, a point to Gryffindor. Now who can tell me how magic is brought into the body from outside?"

Another hand raised. "The magical core, located opposite our heart. It uses energy we get when we eat and the natural energy around us to produce mana that we in turn manipulate to cast spells."

"Correct, excellent work mister Goldstein. Take a point." Flitwick said, twirling his wand. "Now, we're going to learn a basic spell that will be the foundation for a few more spells we'll be tackling today. The shine charm is raw mana dispersed into a sphere at the tip of our wands to become light. The incantation for this spell is 'luxem' and the hand movement is a flick of the wrist."

Shouts and mutters of luxem echoed about the classroom as well as complaints of students poking others with their wands by accident. "There we go, miss Granger's done it. Splendid work, take three points for Ravenclaw." Flitwick announced as Iris managed a bluish-white light. "The closer your light is to blue-white, the closer one is to mastering their own magic, miss Granger, you seem to have a lot of control over your magic at your age."

Twenty minutes into the lesson, the lights ranged from blue to violet to red to green and all colors in between. Ron Weasley managed a sputtering red-purple light that seemed on the verge of exploding. Nora Longbottom maintained a rather large ball of red and gold fireworks while majority had their lights coming in with various hues of the visible spectrum of light.

The students continued their attempt until everyone had managed to get a light going. "Good work everyone, good show. Continue practicing and you'll have that spell down in no time at all. However, we'll have to continue a bit further and make sure the light comes out white. The incantation for this is the Lumos or light charm."

Beside Iris, a massive blast of white light blinded the class as Nora cheered out "Lumos!"

"That was a lot of power, miss Longbottom. You really should sit down and rest." Flitwick observed as Nora swayed on her feet, giggling as she sat down, head still spinning.

The class began casting the lumos charm, some sputtering like broken lightbulbs, others snapping as the student poured too much energy into the spell or in one case, accidentally summoning half a wolf as the student shouted "Lupus" rather than "Lumos"

By the end of the lesson, many of the students found themselves able to light their wands and use its sister spell "Nox" to extinguish the light and the draw on their magic. A wave from Filius had the class dispersing for lunch.

* * *

Whenever Iris found the need to think, she always searched for high places. Another confrontation with Potter, another strange day meeting with Severus Snape. A link to her biological mother, to Lily Evans, it was too good an opportunity to pass on.

What was intelligence and reasoning if her conundrum couldn't be solved with logic. "What does it mean? The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Who am I?" Iris muttered.

"Iris Granger." Susan replied dryly. 'What are you doing?

"Thinking. Musing. Debating with myself. Pick one. Nothing makes sense anymore." Iris grumbled.

Susan chuckled, passing Iris a sandwich. "You missed dinner. What's wrong?"

Victoria nodded, humming thoughtfully as they sat at the ledge. "Indeed, usually you eat enough to give that Weasley boy a run for his money."

Sighing, Iris leaned back as she watched the night sky, bright with stars. Professor Sinestra had given her access to the tower's roof, the wards stopping people from going too far off the edge. "Like I said, Vicky, thinking. Nothing makes sense."

"Is this about that article?" Susan asked.

Shaking her head, Iris sighed. "It . . . well, it's more than that. If Dumbledore had pronounced a "boy-who-lived" then that would mean fooling literally everyone in Magical Britain. Normally that would surprise me, but everyone thinks I'm really just Iris Granger. There's no mention of Iris Potter in any news, it's always a dark haired boy who kills Voldemort." Iris ranted, before sighing again, something she truly did often. "Listen to me, I'm monologue now," she added sheepishly.

"I don't know what to tell you, I grew up on these stories. Harry Potter faced down trolls and boggarts and rode dragons and has a fey elf girlfriend." Victoria said.

"He has a what-now that's a what?" Iris asked, flabbergasted.

Susan and Victoria laughed at Iris's suddenly crimson complexion. "You're always so fun to tease," Susan commented, her laughing tone trailing off as she turned serious. "Still, you're sure you're Iris Potter. We know that Dumbledore called you so when he first met you. Your aunt tells you that you were dropped off at her house a girl."

"That doesn't prove anything, there are a lot of spells that modify memory and appearances." Victoria countered.

Shaking her head, Iris groaned. "That's why nothing makes sense, I'm sure I'm a girl, positive in fact." Iris proclaimed, gesturing to her own body. "So why do all the references and books name their savior Harry Potter. It's too elaborate for Dumbledore to have engineered everything himself."

"Well, the wizarding world is full of bigots and sexist, lecherous old farts." Susan commented, much to Victoria and Iris's amusement.

"How is lecherous even in an eleven-year old's vocabulary?" Victoria asked.

Susan shrugged. "I like reading books."

"Does that solve our current issue? Maybe for the morale and continued sanity of the wizarding world, credit's given to this kid to prove male superiority?" Iris asked.

"No." Susan replied.

"That was the least thought-out statement I've ever heard you utter." Victoria remarked.

Lying back on the stone floor, Iris looked up at the stars. "Yeah. Maybe it's just some elaborate scheme. I guess I should be thankful that I don't have all the attention." Iris said glumly.

"None of it makes sense though, if your parents had died, what happened to their will? It's tradition that a will be read on their child's coming-of-age at eleven." Victoria remembered.

Susan smacked herself on the head. "Of course. We can ask Gringotts, your parents would have specified your name as recipient. Not to mention you can ask for a bloodline test."

Thumping her head against the stone, cursing herself for the sharp pain it caused, Iris sighed. "It's a plan at least."

"Uhh. What time is it?" Victoria asked smartly.

" _Tempus."_ Iris incanted. The numbers 22:25 floated from her wand as the three of them collectively paled. "W . . . what time is curfew?"

"Ten PM on the dot." Susan said.

"Bloody hell." Iris groaned, dragging herself to her feet.

Victoria shook her head. "Language, miss Granger," she said, whipping out her own wand and tapping it on her own and Iris and Susan's heads, the feeling of runny egg or water falling down their bodies.

"I'm grey." Iris remarked.

"Damn, that was supposed to make us invisible." Victoria grumbled. "At least you're not Susan."

"I am pink, shocking pink. You shouldn't even know that spell!" Susan hissed, jabbing herself with a whispered "Finite."

"Let's get out of here before Filch, a professor or a prefect shows up." Iris grumbled. "Ravenclaw's closest, you wanna bunk with us tonight Susan?"

"Sounds like a plan." Susan agreed.

* * *

Everything was going smoothly, up until they met the resident poltergeist. "Ickle firsties out of bed! Oh what fun!"

"Shh, Peeves. Keep it down." Iris whispered.

Susan was looking decidedly green. "If you don't, we're going to get caught."

"It's for your own goods, you know. I should tell someone, Peeves really should." The poltergeist mused, sitting cross-legged in the air.

"Peeves, if you do, we'll give you . . . dungbombs after Christmas break." Susan pleaded.

"Would you really?" Victoria hissed. "We're going to get doubly in-trouble."

"I'll handle this." Iris whispered. _"Lux Initarte!"_

The effect was immediate, Peeves howled and retreated, all the while screaming. "It burns! Students! Students down the forbidden corridor!"

Iris barely had a chance to realize how stupid she was before Susan bolted down the corridor. "Not that way!" Victoria whispered loudly.

"After Susan, we can't be caught." Iris decided, chasing after her.

"If we get in trouble, Granger, I'm going to kill you."

"You'd have to get behind Susan." Iris remarked. "Move it. _Alohomora._ "

The three scrambled into the room as Susan let out a loud breath. "A-Alohomora?"

Rolling her eyes, Iris sighed. "Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven. We'll be learning about it next week."

"If we survive that long." Victoria gulped.

The sound of growling was audible behind them. Susan took one look behind them and outright fainted. "That's just great." Iris sighed as she came face-to-face with a three-headed dog. "Of course."

Victoria took one look at their current situation before remarking. "Bloody hell."

* * *

Hello, welcome and salutations,

The latest chapter, it's a bit later than I'd have liked but travelling doesn't let you get a lot of work done and it's really, really hot in Hong Kong. Anyway, we have our next chapter, some things are the same, explained some other things. I'm interested to see how you take the conversations between Victoria, Iris and Susan as well as Iris's interactions with Snape.

Thoughts are welcome, I enjoy reading your theories you send my way. Comments and suggestions are very much appreciated, as is constructive criticism.

We'll be drawing close to the Halloween Incident before long, until then, how much trouble can three first-years get into?

Mischief Managed,

Arilia


	11. Chapter 11

Nothing had sprung up in particular since Iris and company's encounter with the Cerberus after curfew. In fact, things had gone on rather normally. Normal being a relative term when your password was a riddle, you had a 'brother' waltzing around irritating nearly the entire student body with his declarations of being 'the chosen one' and her brother from another mother trailing along with another boy who constantly looked like a lost puppy without the great Harry Potter around, or the ever energetic Nora Longbottom, who was the only other member of the group that Iris could put up with during their interactions in class.

The girl had a knack for herbology, born with a green thumb the same way Iris had been born, not to mention aided by a potions master and her mother's notes, to brew potions. Snape never said anything about Iris's birth mother ever since that confrontation in their first day. In fact, he'd turned downright cold towards her.

Slowly, September turned to October and the gamekeeper Hagrid could be seen lugging giant pumpkins as tall as six feet back to the castle on a sled. The gentle giant had explained to anyone who'd listen that they were for the All Hallows Eve feast on the night of the thirty-first.

Meanwhile, Iris had quickly found a tight friendship with Victoria Lestrange. Let it not be said that irritating Draco Malfoy, detention after accidentally wandering into the restricted section, and the incident with the Cerberus didn't make people friends.

Currently, the assembled sixty or so members of the first year class were preparing for their first flying lesson. Noticeably worried, many of the muggleborn students had been seen in the library the previous day looking for books about the famous sport of Quidditch, hoping that flying was covered somewhere in the pages.

Their professor, a rather imperious woman that wished to be called Madame Hooch, had all the students select a broom from the stands. This time, the pureblood students were rather green at the appearance of the school brooms. Missing twigs, scuffed handles and shafts, and visibly worn out, those accustomed to brooms were quick to point out the dangers to the muggleborns.

Apart from the Slytherins, nearly all of whom were purebloods, the remaining three houses could be heard giving tips to those recently inducted into the wizarding world. Admittedly, riding brooms were rather archaic, but considering the alternative was the banned flying carpet, it had stuck. Iris found herself at the end of the Ravenclaw line with Victoria at her side and the Gryffindors beginning with Nora at her other.

The extremely excitable blonde was currently vibrating in place while their flying instructor was overseeing the day's events. At her side, a lean, tall man with red hair, who Iris recognized as the Magical Creatures professor, Charlus Weasley. "Welcome everyone to your first flying lesson. Now all of you, step up to your brooms and put your hands in the air above them."

As everyone moved to follow her instructions, the students awaited her next instructions. "Go on, firmly say 'up'. This is intent based, so you need to want the broom to go to your hand."

Choruses of 'up' echoed around the central courtyard as brooms rolled about on the ground, several lurching upwards into their owners' hands or in Potter's other friend's case, rose up to hit him in the face, to the laughter of other students.

Hooch's and Charlus's shouts of "with feeling" or "you gotta mean it" soon coaxed the group of first years to have their brooms in hand, save for a few who stooped to pick up their brooms.

"Alright, now that's done, hold your brooms at mounting level. This is about waist height, or for you muggleborns, where you'd normally stand before mounting a bicycle." Hooch instructed, moving among the students who dropped theirs until finally all sixty brooms were hovering at waist height.

"Scarred, Granger?" Across from her, Malfoy sneered, his cronies Crabbe and Goyle looking decidedly too large for the small school brooms. "We have a bet you see, five galleons says you won't even make it off the ground."

"You're on, Malfoy." Nora replied, summoning her own 'I'm-Just-As-Noble-As-You-Are' air.

"Nobody asked your opinion, blood traitor." Malfoy countered, trying and failing to appear more intimidating as Madame Hooch informed the students to kick off.

Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, several things occurred at the same time. It was always a point of amusement years later for the first years to recount the tale of their first flying lesson among muggleborns. Instances of broken bones, concussions and bouts of vomiting were all within reason. Never let it be said that whatever deities watched over that particular day of flying did not have a sense of humor.

Nearly half the class, consisting mostly of the muggleborn population of the first years, flopped to the ground as they attempted to kick off. A further six or seven skyrocketed upwards in excess of fifty feet, Nora and another rather hyperactive sandy-haired boy from Gryffindor led those students. Others found themselves careening into one another as they attempted to right themselves, the purebloods among their number crying foul play due to faulty brooms or through the fault of the muggleborn and half-bloods.

A cry of "My father will hear about this!" was heard as Malfoy was seen dangling from a statue of a knight, his robes caught on the outstretched pike.

All in all, an incredibly memorable first flying lesson, one that would likely produce an incredibly powerful patronus from Iris years down the road. For the moment, Iris was just happy to be one of the ten who had at least managed to get the three feet in the air required by Madame Hooch. Glancing to the last who had managed to stay on his feet, Potter's redhead friend could be heard muttering "why is it always me?"

* * *

As the days quickly drew closer to the thirty-first, Iris couldn't help but feel melancholy over what the day represented. Nothing seemed to be going her way today, she'd botched a simple giggling solution, drawing the uncharacteristic ire of Snape. That was to add onto the fact that Quirrel had looked at her oddly, and a sudden stabbing pain in her forehead left her with a mild migraine that transferred over to her transfiguration class.

During transfiguration, she discovered that while it was amusing to turn a porcupine into a mobile pincushion, it was also something that McGonagall found unimpressive from one of her best students and was asked to submit an additional essay on that particular topic due next lesson.

Sighing to herself during lunch, Victoria had managed to drag Iris's plate away as she slammed her head against the table, narrowly avoiding a face full of potatoes and peas. "Nothing's really going my way today, is it?" Iris moaned.

"You aren't still on about Malfoy are you? Iris, the boy's as stuck up as his father, you shouldn't let him get to you." Victoria chided, poking her best friend in the side as she turned a rather adorable expression of annoyance and scrunched up her nose.

Shaking her head, Iris sighed. "It's not just that. It's that Chang girl too, I'm missing some of my clothes and every time I confront a prefect about it, they just turn a blind eye. What does that girl have on them?"

"Chang's . . . well, the Chang family is on the Wizengamot. Her father's on the board of directors, one word from him could get any student under probation." Victoria explained, patting Iris's shoulder.

"So you're saying the prefects would rather keep their position than do what they're supposed to be doing?" Iris groaned, returning her head to its position against the table. "I can't even do anything about it, she's threatened to get Potter's group in trouble after the dragon incident."

"Normally that wouldn't bother you, but~" Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"But Hector . . . he's been dragged into Potter's little golden trio. Stupid, foolish older brother, what does Potter have on him that makes Hector stay? He's practically Malfoy." Iris ran her hands through her hair. "It's so frustrating!"

"Miss Granger, calm yourself." One of the prefects, or rather one of Chang's cronies, said.

"Sorry, she's been having a rough day." Victoria called back, returning her eyes to Iris who was rather dishearteningly stabbing a piece of potato with her fork. "Where's your head? You aren't usually this emotional."

Shaking her head, Iris absently rubbed her scar. "I . . . I feel that there's something bad going to happen, like danger's coming."

Rolling her eyes, Victoria put a comforting hand on Iris's own. "Is it because tomorrow's the thirty-first?"

Shrugging, Iris put her fork down. "I haven't thought about that day in forever, Tori. I lost my parents, any hope for a normal life when that . . . monster killed them, gave me this scar. Maybe it's just me feeling sad, I really hope it is."

Victoria stood. "Come on, we have to get to charms. Maybe Flitwick will be able to get your head cleared."

Smiling sadly, Iris sighed. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

Charms was decidedly better than the rest of her day so far. One of the simpler spells that was taught to the first years apart from the wrist movement was the levitation charm. "Alright class, settle down. Today, we're going to put everything we've learned last week and learn to cast the levitation charm."

The diminutive professor looked to the gathered Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students, noting the disturbing lack of enthusiasm from the female of the Granger siblings. Truth be told, he was rather fond of the energetic young witch, always ready with a question. "Is something wrong, miss Granger?" he asked.

"No sir," came the oddly toneless reply.

Frowning at her reply, but with the need to continue the lesson, Flitwick nodded. "Very well, yes. The levitation charm, simply put as being the spell that allows us to manipulate items and charm them to hover in place. Now, did all of you bring your feathers?"

A chorus of affirmation rose from the class and so the charms master continued. "Good, good. Now, remember the nice wrist movement we've been practicing. The swish-and-flick, and do not forget to enunciate clearly, do not be the duelist who accidentally summoned a buffalo onto his chest."

With that image, the class began.

Without too much surprise, Flitwick noted the quick ascension of Iris Granger's feather to rest six feet above the table's surface as all the other students were still attempting to make their feathers so much as twitch. "Well done, miss Granger, well done. Three points to Ravenclaw, splendid work. Now, do you think you might be up to trying it on something heavier?"

"Yes professor." Iris replied, now concentrating on the book in front of her. Other students had managed though Iris seemed more interested in helping the students around her achieve the same results.

With a smile, Flitwick returned to instructing the other students to complete the movements and achieve the small victory of having the feathers float at least an inch or two off the table. "You know; it would be easier if you said it properly." He heard Iris instruct another student, Weasley.

"Oh please, what would you know about magic?" the boy dismissed her, "If you're so clever where's your feather?"

"Floating six feet above your head," came the reply, earning laughs from several other students as the redhead flushed in embarrassment. "Now, it's levi-oh-sah, not leviosarh."

"I'm sorry." Ron said, not sounding apologetic in the least. "Wingardium Leviohsaaah." He said, purposefully dragging out the second word, causing his feather to burst into flames and shoot forward, embedding itself on one of the desks across him.

'Merlin give me strength for prepubescent boys and their misplaced pride.' Flitwick sighed inwardly as Weasley went back to glaring a hole into the desk as Iris moved on to help the overly energetic Nora and her oversized feather. "Excellent work everyone, well done. We'll continue this next class and I hope to see everyone have their feathers flying nice and high. Alright, off you go."

* * *

"It's levioooohsaah, not leviosarh. She's a nightmare, no wonder her only real friend is Lestrange!" Ron was complaining, and Hector had to resist every impulse to punch his 'friend' in the face for making fun of his sister. "Bloody know-it-all, well who needs her."

Harry was laughing with Ron, the 'boy-who-lived' had an arm slung around his redhead friend as Hector trailed along beside them. "I know, bloody muggleborn thinks she's top of the class because she can do a few spells a bit faster than us."

"Not offended here," Hector ground out. "Besides, she's got Susan and Hannah."

"Right. The other muggleborn and a Bones, the best friends ever. No offense, Hector. You're great. Your sister really just a bloody know-it-all." Harry replied, shrugging at Hector's dumbstruck expression.

"Now you're just being insulting." Hector said, once again resisting every impulse to end this so-called friendship despite the old meddler's warnings of consequences. He just didn't know how deep he'd gotten into being friends with an idiot redhead, not that redheads were idiots considering Iris's aptitude, and his dark haired holier-than-thou messiah best friend.

Their conversation turned back to Quidditch, something that Hector gladly tuned out on as Nora had joined them on their walk. "Hey, Hector. Have you seen Iris?"

Hector blinked, shaking his head. "Not since charms class, why?" he asked carefully, noticing that the pair of Harry and Ron weren't paying attention to their conversation as they talked about the Hollyhead Harpies and Chudley Cannons upcoming match.

"Well, she, Susan, Hannah, Victoria and I were supposed to head to the library. Victoria said that Iris was going to find you and Susan and Hannah were already at the library when I got there. So I thought you might know where she was." Nora said, uncharacteristically less cheerful than usual.

"Have you told the prefects?" Hector asked, though he already knew the answer. Nora didn't disappoint when she informed him that the prefects had shrugged her off, saying that she was probably fine. Oh, Hector knew all about that Chang girl and her control over Ravenclaw. So the girl was supposedly both descended from Ravenclaw herself and her father was on the board of directors, there wasn't anything . . . oh hell.

"I'm sure she'll show up for the feast, there's nothing to worry about." Harry said, having finally turned to listen. "Let's go for a pick-up game of Quidditch."

"You guys go ahead; I need to find my sister."

"Suit yourself." Ron shrugged, running after Harry as they returned to their conversation.

* * *

Iris awoke sprawled on the floor of . . . a bathroom. Shaking her head groggily, she looked up blearily at the ceiling. Somehow, she felt as if every single nerve on her body refused to follow her orders, and the dull ache as if she'd rubbed sandpaper over her skin left her feeling raw.

A deep throbbing pain rose from her forehead, throwing her already cloudy mind deeper into disorder. Squinting through the haze, she could make out the stalls and the door. Struggling to her feet, she smelled it before she heard it.

The rancid scent of rotting meat, unwashed skin and the heavy scent of deep earth and sewage. Eyes widening, she stumbled back as a large grey-skinned creature lumbered through the large doorway. Standing ten feet tall, it straightened as it went through the doorway, a massive club dragging behind it. 'I am so screwed' _._ Iris could only watch as the great beast fixed its beady little eyes onto her cowering form.

'I am going to die, here in a bathroom, to a troll _'._ She could only process the rather absurd thought as the twinge in her scar escalated into a full-on migraine that sent her to her knees. One eye closed in a wince, a hand reached to her wand as she felt a pressure on her mind.

 _You don't want it to end, do you?_ a calm, inquisitive voice asked with a tone somewhere between concern and amusement. Anger, at her unfortunate situation, Dumbledore meddling in her life, at the voice in her head, crystalized into a diamond somewhere within her.

"No." Iris gritted, and if anyone had seen her, they would have thought her eyes began to glow in the sickly green light of the killing curse. "I have no intention of dying here."

Suddenly, she found herself in a library, old and unused. Dust descended like snow as she looked around. "Hello, child." A voice said behind her.

Spinning around, Iris reached for her wand and found that it wasn't there. Before her stood a young man in a suit. With eyes of a calm, unwavering brown and dark hair, he smirked at Iris, something that irritated her further. "Who are you?" she asked.

"You can call me Tom, Tom Riddle," he said, though Iris's eyes widened at that particular revelation. She'd been searching, that name. She knew it.

Absolute hatred appeared in her eyes, her teeth grit as she glared accusingly at the young man. "You. You're Voldemort."

Nodding solemnly, the young man's air of superiority vanished. "You have no idea how much I regret what happened. I had not intended for Dumbledore to frame me for the death of your parents."

"You! What?" Iris's anger evaporated. As insane it was, she found that there was little reason for this man to lie to her. All he had to do was leave her to the tender mercies of the troll. "What do you mean?"

Blinking, Riddle gave Iris a curious look. "Albus Dumbledore, the right hand of Gellert Grindelwald before his betrayal. What do they teach you children at Hogwarts?"

Iris frowned. "You're lying. No matter how much I hate Dumbledore, he isn't dark."

Laughing, Riddle shook his head. "Controlling, ruthless, ambitions. Willing to use any means to achieve his ends, including confunding and stunning an eleven-year old girl to get rid of his only true enemy. Are you so surprised that Dumbledore does what he does?"

"So all that talk about the light and the betterment of witches and wizards?" Iris countered. "Are you saying he's lying to everyone for some stupid agenda as killing a dead wizard?"

"I'm afraid, dear child, that I'm far from dead." Riddle said.

"What do you want from me?" Iris asked. "There's no way that I'm letting you take control of me, if that's what you even want. Why did you bring me here?"

"You seem to be laboring under the misconception that I've forced you to do anything. No child, this is your mind, memories sealed from you by Dumbledore and unfortunately myself. Have you ever wondered why you are so good at magic while having only know about our world's existence for a few years?" Riddle said, gesticulating to the dusty library around him.

"You haven't answered my question. What do you want from me? Where are we?"

"Your mind, child. I thought you were a Ravenclaw. The sorting hat said so itself! A mind, labyrinthian yet organized. Your mind is an archive, a gift of the blood of Ravenclaw, dating back generations. Years and decades and centuries of knowledge that lies just out of reach." Riddle exclaimed, his façade of seriousness disappearing once again. "What I want, however, is to make . . . a pact."

"And there's the catch. I could go to Dumbledore, or even Madame Pomfrey, get this sorted out without you."

Chuckling, Riddle rounded on Iris. "Don't you see, that's exactly what you've already done. I've been trying to contact you through your scar for months and years. Every time you go to saint Mungo's, Dumbledore is alerted and he personally ensure that you recall nothing. He is keeping you from the truth, why are you so blind to it?"

"How do I know you aren't lying? That this is some trick? A ploy to get my mind."

Sighing, Tom leaned on a shelf. "Because I am tired, trapped in a library with books I cannot read. Trapped in your mind, child. I regret, not making the horcruxes, but the fate I left on a child in my haste to undo what Dumbledore had wanted to do."

"And what is that?" Iris asked carefully.

"Control of everything. He is powerful, cunning, ruthless. He hides behind the guise of the wise old grandfather when he is just as greedy, as corrupted by the temptations of dark magic and immortality as I am. Heed my words, if he is not stopped, then there will be little anyone can do once he has obtained absolute power for his own."

Iris shook her head. It had only been two months, why did such strange things had to happen to her. "Can't I just live a normal life?"

"But where's the fun in that? In this game we play, one can only win or die, there's no middle ground. Like it or not, you were a piece on his board the moment Dumbledore gave you up to the radical elements of our society and killed your parents." Riddle said, his rapid fire pace almost frightening in its intensity.

"No. You, you killed my parents!" Iris screamed, trembling now in rage. One man trying to manipulate her life was more than enough, a second turning her world upside down was just too much. "There's nothing you can say that can convince me otherwise!"

Riddle sprang from his position to looming over Iris, gripping her shoulders and staring into fearful green eyes. "Then let me show you the truth. _Memoriam._ "

* * *

A/N:

Hello everyone,

Here's the latest installment of Flowers for Ravens, sorry for ending it on a cliffhanger. Actually, no I'm not. Maybe some of you will be interested enough to wait for the next chapter. Iris is attacked by the troll, she's having a really bad time and Dumbledore's plotting again.

I won't spoil too much of the conversation between Iris and Tom, I'll leave that for all of you to speculate on what's the truth in their conversation or even if there's a lie or truth in any of it. I hope to hear from you guys on your thoughts. Sorry it took a little while, I've been busy with my other project as well, though I hope to update them regularly. When they finish is up for debate, so I hope you stick around for the ride.

Mischief managed,

Arilily


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